Book of the Champion I: Into Oblivion
by NightingaleTrash
Summary: When Aerrun Radlyn awakens in a cell with no memory of how she got there, she couldn't have possibly foreseen the fate that awaited her. Sent to find the lost heir to the Ruby Throne, she must battle the Mythic Dawn and fight the demons of her past, if she is to ever uncover the truth.
1. The Escape

"Ooh you're a fair lass," a voice cackled. I bolted upright, eyes darting around, taking in my surroundings. Where in the world was I?

"Your skin is so pale, so pure. And your body… So strong. Let me guess. A Nord right?" I looked up.

I was in a cell; fairly large, made of stone, damp and dimly lit by the sunlight that streamed in through the tiny barred window high in the wall behind. Chains hung from the ceiling and, disturbingly, bones were strewn across the floor.  
>The air was stale and damp and the occasional dripping sound could be heard echoing off the walls, making the source indeterminable. The bars ahead of me led into a tiny stone passage lit by torch light and in the opposite cell was a dunmer, the source of the noise.<p>

"I bet you think you're pretty tough. I bet you can swing a sword and everything." His tone was cold and mocking, sarcasm and malice dripping from his tongue as he gazed at me. "Well it doesn't matter! Not in here. It does no good to fight. But don't worry. The guards always treat the pretty ones nice. Right 'til the end. That's right. You're going to die in here, Nord!"  
>He let out a harsh cackle and I looked away from him as he was now grinning spitefully. I turned back to look at the cell around me again, taking it all in as I stood up from the floor. It was freezing cold, sapping any warmth away from my feet instantly, so I observed my new environment, moving about to warm myself up somewhat. I could hear the giggling of the Dunmer as he mocked me under his breath.<p>

I wasn't really certain what I was hoping to accomplish as I ran my fingers across the walls, over the rickety table and around the tan jug sitting on its surface. Perhaps I was hoping that something, anything would trigger in my brain and tell me what was going on and why I was in here; perhaps to find some familiarity in the setting that would give me even the slightest hint as to who I was and why I was here.

Aerrun... That was my name. It was something at least. But as I continued to pace the cell, nothing else presented itself to me so I slung myself onto the stone bed and fell into a restless sleep.

[O]

Time passed during my confinement. Judging by the lightening and darkening of the room from the stream of sunlight, it had been about two days since I had awoken. I was lying out on the stone bed again, observing my hands.

It had struck me that morning that I had no recollection of my appearance. I could probably look into a mirror at that moment and not realise it was me. So I lay there and made what observations I could. My hands were long with slender fingers. A long, sleek scar had been marked on my right thumb and there was a strange pang of familiarity as I looked at it. My hair was long and blonde I noted, pulling a few strands in front of my eyes.

But there was no way of really knowing what the rest of me looked like. Probably starved, the way I felt right now. No guards had come down to the cells and I felt as though my stomach was gnawing on itself.

"Did you hear that?" The dunmer said suddenly, sounding excited. I stood up and moved over to the door of the cell, straining my ears straining to listen. Suddenly, there was the sound of urgent footsteps and the clinking of armour. "That's the guards! They're coming. For you! Hehehehehe!"  
>He cackled away to himself and I felt something icy slide into my stomach. I didn't even know what I had done to get here, yet was I really going to die without a shred of memory besides my own name?! "You look frightened nord. Well you should have thought about that after you murdered-!"<br>"Baurus, lock that door behind us," a woman ordered, her voice clear and commanding. The dunmer's gleeful grin faded slightly. It was not a normal command to be given when executing a prisoner.

"Yes Captain Renault." The air was suddenly tensed and charged with anticipation between both myself and the dunmer as we both waited to see what would happen.

"My sons, they're dead... Aren't they?" A forlorn voice followed as the footsteps grew nearer.

"We don't know that sire," the woman replied briskly, though not without pity. She and three others appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "The messenger simply said they were attacked."

"No, they're dead... I can feel it."

Before I could even move or say anything, the group were in front of my cell door. And for some reason, the woman before me looked shocked and angry.

"What's this prisoner doing here?" She snapped at the man beside her. "This cell is supposed to be off limits!" She was clad in armour identical to the two men beside her and her hard grey eyes were fixed in a glare that caused the man to fluster.

"A usual mix up with the Watch I-"

"Never mind," she replied curtly. "Get that gate open." She then returned her gaze to me. "Stand back prisoner, we won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!"

"Over by the window. Do as your told and you won't get hurt," her companion added, treating me to the same cold gaze. I decided that right now arguing and demanding answers wouldn't get me anywhere but dead, so I did as I was told and moved back towards the window.

There was the click of the lock and the door swung open. A redguard, Baurus if I had heard the woman properly, entered first and stood across from me.

"Stay there Prisoner and don't get in our way," he warned.

I nodded my head, making it clear that I intended to comply. I could have sworn I spotted a smirk on his features as he turned to wave the others in – the woman and man from before entered first with another man, much older than the rest, following closely behind.

I realised he was dressed differently too. Whereas the other three all wore armour, he wore long robes of finery with a large jewel hanging from a gold chain around his neck. It was bright red and shone, even in the darkness. His face was lined and wrinkled, his pale eyes sunken slightly and his hair was thin and steely grey in colour.

The lock clicked again and I realised the imperial had locked the door behind him. I felt my heart sink slightly at the prospect of a potential escape route gone, but my curiosity was piqued. Who were these people and why were they in my cell? That's when the old man caught sight of me and did a double take.

"You... I've seen you," he breathed, breaking away from the party who all let out noises of protest that he ignored.

He was slightly shorter than myself, slightly hunched with age but still regal in a sense as he closed the gap between himself and me. I could see myself reflected in his eyes – thin faced, a little gaunt and somewhat scared.

"Let me see your face. You are the one from my dreams. Then the stars were right and this is the day... Gods give me strength."

"What's going on?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next," he told me mournfully. "My Blades are leading me out of the city through a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."

I felt the surge of a thousand questions in my mind, but the only one my mouth was able to form was: "Who are you?"

There was a noise of indignation from the Blades, who were clearly becoming impatient by now, but the old man chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. "It seems the gods have had more of a hand in your fate than appearances suggest. I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler."

I frowned, feeling the prickle of familiarity from the name but ultimately shook my head. "I don't remember."

"Do not fret," the Emperor said, patting my shoulder. "For you are a citizen of Tamriel and you too shall serve her, in your own way."

"But why am I in jail?"

To my disappointment, he evaded the question entirely. "Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done... it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

I frowned, feeling frustrated but curious at the same time, just wishing the man would give me a straight answer on the matter. Whatever I had done, surely it couldn't have been that awful?

"What _should_ I do then?"

"You will follow your own path," the Emperor said calmly. "But be careful. There will be blood and death before the end."

I felt an involuntary shiver of fear down my spine at those words, the finality in which he spoke them as though he had already seen what would unfold. And the haunted looking in those pale eyes told me that that was most likely the exact truth of the matter. But as I opened my mouth to ask something else, it seemed the Blades had run out of patience.

"Please sire we must keep moving," the woman implored, pressing down on one of the stones in the wall.

There was a grinding sound as the section of wall began to move, slowly opening to reveal a passage way beyond. The Emperor turned away from me and started down into the passage way. "Better not close this one, there's no way to open it from the other side," she remarked, taking the lead with the two men taking the rear. Baurus stopped and faced me again.

"It looks like this is your lucky day. Just keep quiet and stay out of our way," he said coldly, before following the others.

I stood there, looking at the opening in the wall for a moment. This was my chance of freedom – the Emperor and his bodyguards were practically handing it over to me willingly. What did I have to lose after all?

I began to follow when there was a shout behind me.

"Hey, hang on a minute!" I turned to look around and realised it was the dunmer speaking. "You kill a man in cold blood, serve three days and just leave! You get your freedom that easily?! It's not fair! Hey come on, help a guy out! You wouldn't leave your buddy Valen here alone, would you?"

I hovered for a moment, looking at him and realising just how much I disliked him before looking him dead in the eye.

"Next time we meet, I'll show you how well I swing a blade." And I didn't linger a moment longer before delving into the passage.

[O]

The labyrinth beneath the prison was immense as we made our way through the tunnels, the only source of light being the flicker of torches and the occasional beam of sunlight filtering in through a grate overhead.

I padded quietly at the back of the group and quickly gathered names from snippets of quiet conversation. The breton woman was Captain Renault and the imperial man was Glenroy. We walked on in silence, through the seemingly endless labyrinth when we came into a large chamber. Renault stopped, peering into the darkness. She must have seen something as she pulled out her sword.

"Form up, protect the Emperor!" She ordered, leading the charge into battle. That was the first time I saw them. Clad in red and black armour that looked as though it had no place on Nirn. The three Blades clashed head on and I moved to assist, only to find a withered old hand on my arm.

"You are unarmed and have no armour. You would only face your death," the Emperor whispered.

There was a scream and I looked back in time just to see Renault fall to the ground, blood seeping out from her armour. Glenroy and Baurus let out a collective roar of fury and took down the last assassin with ease, his armour melting away into thin air as he crumpled.

A moment of relative unease passed before myself and the Emperor approached. "Captain Renault...?"

"She's dead," Baurus said bitterly.

"I'm sorry sire but we have to keep moving," Glenroy insisted, pulling out a key and unlocking the door that led further into the depths of the complex. I made to follow after, but Baurus stopped me.

"You stay here prisoner, don't try to follow us." Before I could begin to protest, he exited through the door. The moment it shut there was the metallic click of a lock and I knew that there was no going through now.

I scowled and kicked the wall out of frustration (a poor decision on my part, my throbbing toe told me). Part of me said it only made sense. I had been imprisoned for a reason, a reason they probably knew better than I did and the fact was that the Emperor's life was in danger. They weren't going to take risks in a prisoner who could possibly be in on the plot.

But another, stronger part of me kept saying how ridiculous it was to think I was in on it. If those people in red had been my companions, surely I would have tried to save them. Or I could have killed the Emperor whilst the Blades were busy fighting the assassins. There had been nothing to stop me from overpowering the old man, taking his sword and killing him there. It should have been clear as day I had nothing to do with any of it.

Suddenly, there was a high pitched squeak followed by the sound of claws scrabbling on stone.

I looked up just in time to see the skeever burst through the wall and in a stroke of pure instinct, I leapt high out of the way, landing neatly halfway up the stairs behind me. I myself was slightly taken aback at how easy the jump felt but the skeever was not to be so easily distracted. It turned to face me and lunged forwards. I jumped again, landing beside the corpse of Captain Renault. This time, I reached for the sword that was strapped to Renault's hip and tore it out of the sheath. This time when the skeever leapt, it found itself skewered on the end of the blade where it flopped helplessly before becoming quite still.

I pulled the sword out from the corpse and saw where the animal had come from. There was a gaping hole in the wall, leading into a large cavern.

I quickly searched Renault's body and found another sword, this one shorter and sturdier than the thin blade I had killed the skeever with. There was also some lock picks and a handful a gold coins. I pocketed them before turning to the hole. I didn't like the look of it. It was dark and there was no guarantee of there being a way out. The idea of getting lost wasn't too appealing, but right now it was my best hope of escaping this place, so I grit my teeth and proceeded.

[O]

I was relieved to find smooth flag stones under my feet when I pushed the door open. It was a welcome change to the uneven ground in the caverns – the boots I had found were too big, so whilst they offered protection there were occasions where I was sure I'd break my ankles from the way my feet slid around inside.

The cuirass I had found was little better and at this point I was positive it was made for a man. But it was better than the flimsy cloth that I had been wearing before and the bow, as old and rusting as it was, was far more useful than no bow at all. I must have used one before, with how natural it felt to aim and fire an arrow.

I crept forwards and spotted a group of familiar faces. So Baurus, Glenroy and the Emperor had made it this far too then. Good, perhaps the assassins had given up.

The moment this thought crossed my mind, it became apparent I had spoken too soon as the glint of red, black and silver appeared from the shadows. They leapt forwards, weapons raised and I wasted not a moment. I sent an arrow flying, striking right through the eyehole of one of the assassins. I took advantage of the confusion to shoot another arrow, hitting a chink in one assassins armour. He let out a roar of pain and fury, moving to strike down Glenroy who barely deflected the move in time.

I kept firing arrows from my vantage point before leaping down to the ground, trying to keep track of who was in red. It was over quickly, with the two Blades cutting down the last assassin. I let out a sigh of relief, slinging the bow over my back. But then Glenroy caught sight of me.

"Damn it, it's that prisoner again," he growled. "Kill her, she might be working with the enemy." He strode towards me, sword drawn. I backed away quickly until I hit the wall behind me with the long blade pressed to my neck, his hand pinning me there by the shoulder. One flick of his wrist and it was over.

"No." Glenroy paused but he didn't look around, his eyes boring into mine. "She can help us. She must help us."

I felt my heart drumming in my throat, waiting to see what the imperial would do. Thankfully he stood back and sheathed the weapon and turned away from me.

"As you wish sire," he said with a short bow, not sounding particularly happy about this but I felt my knees go slightly weak as the anticipation of death flooded out from me.

"Come closer," the elderly man said, beckoning me over. "I would prefer not to shout."

I did as I was told; glad to get away from Glenroy and his sword. "They cannot understand why I trust you. They have not seen what I have seen. How can I explain?"

The Emperor paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. He spoke to me of the Nine Divines, how they influenced our fates and the fate of our world of Nirn. How he watched the stars and how they would mark the future and he asked what star marked my birth. I didn't even need to think, it just came to me naturally.

"The Thief," I said before pausing, wondering where that answer had come from. "But what do stars have to do with what's happening now?"

"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

"What about me?"

"Your stars are not mine. Today the Thief shall guide your steps on the road to your destiny," he said wisely and I frowned slightly, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Can you see my fate?"

"My dreams grant me no opinions of success," he confessed, his expression remaining quite unreadable. "Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death."

I felt my insides knot tightly at this as I looked at the floor. If that was true, was there any point in trying? But then I felt cold finger tips touch my chin and tilt my head up again to look straight at the Emperor. "But in your face, I see the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness."

"Sire, we must keep moving," Glenroy insisted, moving towards the door. The Emperor bowed his head in consent and moved to walk away, though I kept up and walked slightly behind him.

"Aren't you afraid to die?" I asked quietly, wondering how a man who seemed to know his grave lay before him could seem so calm about it. Even without a memory, I knew I didn't want to die. That there was something for me to want to live for.

"You are young. The idea is incomprehensible to you," he said tiredly. "No trophies of my triumphs proceed me, but I have lived well and my ghost shall rest easy."

"But-!"

"Men are but flesh and blood," he interrupted, as though knowing what I was going to say. "They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death. To face my apportioned fate, then fall." The air tensed as he said this and I felt my stomach knot itself even more tightly. I'd do whatever I could to stop that from happening.

[O]

"We're almost through to the sewers," Baurus murmured, though there was no denying the trace of hope in his voice.

"The sewers?" I asked, looking over my shoulder as we walked.

"They stretch out beneath the whole Imperial city," Glenroy explained, holding the torch out in front of him. "We're leading his highness to an access point just beyond the city walls. After that, we head for safety."

We'd encountered a few more assassins as we proceeded onwards and by now the injuries were starting to pile up. My cuirass had already been tattered when I found it. Now I was just hoping it didn't fall to pieces. But the idea of escaping this place was more than worth putting up with the discomfort for a while longer.

We came into a large chamber with a passage way at the bottom of the stairs. But Glenroy held out a hand, stopping us from proceeding.

"Hold up, I don't like the look of this," he said quietly. "All of you wait here, I'll check it out." I took the torch from him as he pulled out his sword and moved forwards into the chamber. We waited with baited breath as he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, briefly vanishing from sight. When he reappeared, he beckoned us forward. "Okay, it's clear. Let's get moving."

We followed cautiously and I felt a sense of dread begin to fill me. Something about this whole set up seemed off, like everything that had happened had been leading up to this. But we could hardly turn back now, not if we wanted to get out of here alive.

Glenroy was waiting for them by a steel gate. I could see another door just beyond it. But rather than relief, the dread seemed to build. And it quickly became apparent why. Glenroy tried to push the gate open, only for it to shudder but remain firmly closed.

"Damn it, it's locked! A trap!"

"What about that side passage back there?" Baurus suggested, remaining cool and collected.

"Worth a try, let's go!" Both unsheathed their swords and I followed suit.

I felt my heart sink horribly at the sight of the walls. It was a dead end. We were trapped.

"What's your call sir?" I looked around to see Glenroy looking more stressed than I had seen him so far, trying to figure out a course of action when the clink of armour echoed behind them. He paled. It was too late, they were here.

"Damn it, they're behind us!" The imperial turned back into the main chamber with a fierce battle cry of: "For the Emperor!"

"Stay with the Emperor," Baurus ordered me firmly. "Guard him with your life!"

"Right. Just be careful not to lose yours," I replied as he turned and followed Glenroy.

But as I moved to draw my sword, I suddenly found a large glowing gem thrust into my free hand. I gasped, dropping my torch to the floor where it fizzled out.  
>"Sire-"<p>

"I can go no further. Only you can stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants," he said urgently, as though there wasn't enough time to say it fast enough. "Take the Amulet, give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son. Find him and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."  
>There was no time to even ask what he meant when the panel in the wall slid aside, revealing the assassin standing there.<p>

It seemed to happen in slow motion as the assassin struck hard in the Emperor's back, burying the dagger straight to the hilt. I could only watch as Uriel Septim crumpled, a trickle of blood appearing on his lips as he fell to the ground, the dagger still protruding from his back.

It felt like all my senses had gone dead with shock as the assassin pulled his dagger out of the Emperor and flipped him over carelessly, peering at the dead man's face. He then looked back to me slowly. I was still clutching the Amulet in my hands. The assassin looked at the gem then back at me.

"Stranger, you chose a bad day to take up cause with the Septims," he hissed, pulling out a cruel, thorned mace.

**To Be Continued...**

**AN: Here's chapter 1 for you all :) I've been working on this particular fanfic for quite some time and I have up to 11 chapters already written, though as still being edited and are going through proof reading. My characters have proved quite unpredictable at best but I've enjoyed working with ****most of**** them and I can't wait to have the final chapters written and ready for you guys**

**Leave a review and perhaps fav it if you liked it ^_^**


	2. Kvatch

I barely dodged the mace as it swung at my head. I shoved the Amulet into my pocket and drew Renault's sword from its scabbard. I thrust it at the assassin, missing by a mere inch as he leaned out of the way.

Recovering my balance, I somersaulted over his head and drove the long blade in through a gap in his armour. He let out a scream of agony before falling to the floor, blood pouring out over the flagstones as he lay, unmoving. But it didn't matter if he was dead or not. He had fulfilled his mission. Emperor Uriel Septim was dead.

I didn't know what to do as I stood there, sword in my hand as my eyes were fixed on the Emperor, unable to look away. I had failed to protect him. I couldn't begin to imagine the consequences my failure would have at the time, I just knew I had failed.

At that moment, Baurus re-entered the room. I wondered why Glenroy wasn't with him until a dull realisation hit me as Baurus bent over the Emperor's body. I could spy the imperial lying out in the chamber, blood weeping from his neck.

"We failed… I failed…" Baurus breathed, straightening up. His arms hung limply by his sides, eyes wide with grief and guilt. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor and now he and all his heirs are dead."

He pulled off his helm, running a hand over cropped black hair as though the thought hadn't really sunk in. Then his eyes widened and he turned on me sharply. "The Amulet, where's the Amulet of Kings? It wasn't on the Emperor's body!" He didn't sound angry, just scared and worried.

"It's okay," I said quietly, pulling out the Amulet. It was no longer shining like it had been before but was rather dull instead, as though it knew of its owner's death. "The Emperor gave it to me before he died…"

"The Emperor gave it to you? Why?"

"He said to find Jauffre." I didn't know who he was, so I was hopeful that Baurus wouldn't need an explanation.

"Jauffre? He said that to you? Why?"

"There's another heir."

Baurus blinked, clearly more stunned by this news than I was. "There is? Nothing I ever heard about. But Jauffre would be the one to know."

"Okay, but who is Jauffre? The Emperor only told me his name, nothing else."

"Jauffre is the grandmaster of my order. You'll find him at Weynon Priory – you must proceed there with the Amulet immediately."

My confusion must have shown because Baurus pulled out a map and laid it out on the floor and I crouched next to him to look. "When you get out through the sewers, you'll find yourself here. If you head straight north, you'll hit the Black Road. Follow it and you'll hit Weynon Priory without too much trouble. Not that I think you'd have much either way. From what I've seen, you must be an experienced acrobat, am I right?"

"Acrobat?" I frowned slightly. "I don't know. But it sounds good to me."

Baurus laughed, clapping me on the back in spite of the circumstances as he held out the map to me. "You keep this. That way you won't get too lost. Get the Amulet to Jauffre, the Emperor entrusted it to you after all. He saw something in you, trusted you. So I'm going to trust you too."

"Thank you. But what are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to stay here and guard the Emperor's body. Make sure the rats don't get to it," he replied, shrugging before his eyes fell to the sword in my hand. I held it out to him.

"I think this belonged to your captain. I found some other weapons, I don't need it anymore."

"Thanks for recovering it," he said, taking the blade gingerly with a great deal of reverence. "I will make sure it gets a place of honour in the halls of the Blades."

I gave him a small smile. "I'm sure you will."

[O]

It took me three days to reach Weynon Priory, as weary as I was. I continually checked the map to ensure I was heading the right way. The weight of the Amulet of Kings was noticeable in my pocket, pressing into my thigh as I walked. I had abandoned the too-large boots on the road, they had been far too uncomfortable and now that I was on uneven terrain again I did not like the way my feet were sliding around again.

It was swelteringly warm as the sun bore down on me, burning the back of my neck. Therefore, after two days it was a relief to find myself under the shade of the Great Forest, the canopy providing protection from the sun's rays. I had to find food and water along the way, seeing as I had no supplies on me. Mostly I hunted, knowing that eating something without knowing if it was toxic or not was a death wish. So I hunted whatever game I could find. It was largely rabbits. Deer were too quick and the wolves I ran into were usually emaciated or carrying some kind of disease, so they were out of the question.

Thankfully, just as I was getting tired of rabbit meat I reached what could only be Weynon Priory. There were two buildings in all though it seemed there was some sort of farm behind it, judging from the chickens walking around. I approached the larger building and knocked on the door. After a moment or so, a tall balding man appeared in the door way dressed in a long robe. He looked surprised but then I realised just how poor a condition I was in. No shoes, a tattered cuirass and trousers and covered in half-healed injuries and dirt.

"I'm here to see Jauffre," I said quietly. "I need to speak with him. Now."

"Of course, please come in," he said, standing aside. "I am Prior Maborel. Brother Jauffre is upstairs, in the room to the right. If there is anything you need, please ask." I wiped the dirt from my feet onto the doormat as best I could before proceeding up the stairs.

I entered what appeared to be a study. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with various tomes and alchemy instruments among other things. A desk stood at the end of the room, where a man sat reading a book. Like Prior Maborel, he was balding but what hair he did have was a stormy shade of grey and was thinning from age. He looked up when he heard me enter and set his book aside.

"I'm Brother Jauffre, what do you want?"

He was curt and snappish, unlike Prior Maborel but if this man was the Grandmaster of the Blades then news of the Emperor's death would have reached him by now. Likely he was stressed and on edge as a result. So I pulled out the Amulet of Kings and placed it on the desk.

His eyes were practically saucers as he stared at the dull red gem sitting on the desk. "This is the Amulet of Kings… Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?" He demanded.

I relayed everything that had happened. From my memory loss to the Emperor's death at the hands of the assassins. He observed me the whole time as we sat on opposite sides of the desk, Prior Maborel bringing plates of food and a pitcher of water. It was a relief to have the taste of something other than rabbit on my tongue, but my concern was elsewhere.

Finally, Jauffre sighed and placed his hands on the desk. "As unlikely as your story sounds, I believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim would bring you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings." He rubbed his temples, trying to prevent an oncoming headache at the intake of information. But I was eager to know more. I had answered his questions, now I wanted mine answered.

"Who is the Prince of Destruction? And what did the Emperor mean by 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion'?"

"Oblivion is another realm separate to our own. The creatures that call it home are immortal monsters named daedra and their masters, the sixteen Daedric Princes. These Princes are the rulers of the various planes of Oblivion; the Prince of Destruction is reference to Mehrunes Dagon, one of those princes. It seems the Emperor perceived some sort of threat from Dagon and Oblivion, something the rest of us could not foresee," he explained.

"The Emperor said something about his last son. But his sons were all murdered though, weren't they?" I pointed out, recalling what I had overheard from my cell. The sons of the Emperor were attacked by assassins and had all died according to the conversation.

"Yes, his sons were murdered," Jauffre replied vaguely. "Except one. The secret heir. Years ago, when I served as the Captain of the Blades guarding the Emperor, Uriel summoned me to his private chambers. He was standing over a basket; inside laid a tiny baby boy. Uriel told me to take the child and hide him somewhere he would be safe. He didn't tell me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. He asked about the child's progress from time to time…" He gazed out of the window over his shoulder.

"Where can I find him?" Jauffre looked around at me surprised. "The Emperor told me to bring the Amulet to you. He told me to find his son, so if I'm going to find him then I need to know where he is."

Jauffre took a few moments to reply. He was observing me for a few moments, obviously scrutinising me to see if I was trustworthy with the information. Finally, he relented. "His name is Martin. He serves as a priest in the Chapel of Akatosh in the city of Kvatch."

I offered him a determined grin. "How do I get there?"

[O]

It would have taken two weeks if I had taken Jauffre's prescribed route of following the Black Road back towards the Imperial City and then taking the Gold Road to Kvatch. By cutting through the Great Forest towards Skingrad, I cut down a week and a half of travel time. From there, I followed the Gold Road towards my destination, feeling much more confident than before. Jauffre had supplied me with new leather armour that fit much better than what I had found before. The boots fit perfectly and the cuirass was good and strong. I had regular civilian clothing now as well – a quilted doublet and leather trousers which I wore with my boots. They were tucked into my pack with food and water skins, the map rolled up tightly.

The road was fairly quiet with the occasional imp or wolf. The only real trouble I encountered was a pair of bandits though the momentary distraction of an imp made it easy enough for me to slip away unnoticed. By the time I drew close to Kvatch I was feeling fairly excited. If I could find Martin quickly we could resolve whatever horrors the Emperor had seen before they could unfold. But naturally, it wasn't going to be that easy.

As Kvatch loomed in the distance, I immediately registered that something was wrong. Smoke was rising into the air in a great column, the trees were dead and withered and there was an ominous rumble of thunder, though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Once again, I felt the oncoming dread. Shame on me for hoping this would be easy.

I picked up my pace to a jog along the road and came to the turn that led up towards Kvatch only to be bowled over. I landed right on my arse rather hard and I wondered who the hell had hit me.

"Get up! Run! The guards can only hold the road so long!" I looked up to see a hysterical Altmer standing there, eyes wide, face marred with soot and dirt and badly dishevelled.

"H-hold on," I gasped, getting to my feet. "Calm down, what's going on?"

"What's going on?! You really don't know?! The daedra, they're attacking Kvatch! Killing people left and right! I was one of the few to escape before the city was lost! Captain Matius claims to hold the road, but I don't believe him! Run whilst you still can!"

"Now wait a minute," I said firmly, despite how dry my mouth had become. "The whole city can't be destroyed."

"Go see for yourself!" He snapped. "Kvatch is gone, we're all dead!" And he ran, knocking me aside as he fled.

I looked up the path and swallowed hard. If what the Altmer had said was true, then Martin… No, I hadn't come all this way to find out it was too late. So I started up the road, full out running now desperate to see if the Altmer hadn't been exaggerating.

I arrived in a small encampment. There were only a handful of people, filthy with grime and looking positively terrified, if not somewhat sobered. As I wandered through I caught snippets of conversation, all wondering why the Gods had forsaken them and what they had done wrong. Some seemed positive that Kvatch could be rebuilt. Most were not so sure. If I was noticed when I walked through, no one bothered me and to be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask about Martin. There was no telling if he was among them or not.

I spotted a Priest further up the hill, though he was clearly too old to be Martin. He looked like he might be Emperor Uriel's age. His face was dark and his eyes dull.

"It's over," he muttered upon my approach. "The enemy has won, the covenant is broken. Mehrunes Dagon will destroy us all."

"Excuse me… I'm looking for someone." He looked up and for a moment, I wondered if I should have asked someone else. His eyes were like huge voids, empty of hope or pain. It was like looking into the eyes of a dead person and made me more than a little uncomfortable.

"If they are not in the encampment, then you'd best leave now girl. Anyone who didn't escape is likely dead," he said in a monotone, bearing not a wink of emotion.

"Even so, I need to find out for sure," I said firmly. "I'm looking for Martin, one of the priests of Akatosh."

Even then, his face didn't change from the blank horror etched into his features and wondered if he was always like this. How bad could the situation have been? "I saw Brother Martin leading a group into the chapel. If he is alive, he is still trapped in the city and no one can get in or out. Not with that gate in the way."

"Thank you," I said hurriedly, continuing up the hill, if anything to get away from the priest. There was a chance. It was slim at best but it existed. But what had that priest meant by a gate?

I was about to find out.

[O]

It was like a vision from a nightmare. The ground was barren and lifeless, the sky was on fire and before the walls stood a huge vortex of fire. The light and heat were excruciating and I could finally understand what had caused the Altmer to flee in such terror. A barricade had been erected but it was meagre at best, lined by whatever men remained. All wore white tunics bearing the symbol of a wolf. As I drew closer, one of them noticed me.

"Stand back civilian!" He barked and I guessed that this was the Captain Matius the Altmer had been referring to; I could see the gleaming Captain's badge on his chest. "This is no place for you. Get back to the encampment at once!"

"I'm not a civilian," I retorted. "I'm looking for someone. What happened here?"

"We lost the damn city, that's what happened!" he spat. "It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn't even get everyone out. There are still people trapped in there! Some made it to the chapel but others were just run down in the streets. The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle. And now we can't even get back into the city with that damned Oblivion Gate in the way!"

I looked at the gate way and felt my stomach turn. So that monstrosity was a product of the immortal realm of Oblivion. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the concept of the place and upon seeing the Gateway, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

"Isn't there a way to close it? Or another way into the city?"

Matius laughed hollowly. "If there was another way in, why would we be standing here trying to hold the road? I sent men in to try and find a way to close the gate, but they haven't returned. I'm not sure if they're even alive right now."

"So what will you do now?"

"The only thing we can do. We'll try to hold our ground, that's what. If we can't hold this barricade, the daedra will march right down to the encampment. And I will not let anyone else die because of my incompetence!"

I couldn't help but admire his conviction, but it wasn't going to save the people in the city. Jauffre had told me that the daedra of Oblivion were infinite. These guardsmen were not and it didn't look like whoever had opened the Gate was closing it any time soon. I needed to get into the city and find Martin, but right now it seemed impossible as long as the Gate was there. There were no other entrances and the daedra standing between me and the Gate kept letting off the occasional fireball to keep the men at bay. If I tried to climb the walls I would be reduced to a smoking corpse in moments. There was only one thing for it.

"I'll do it." Matius and a few of the nearer guardsmen looked at me in shock. "I'll go into the Gate and close it. Then the people inside can be pulled out right?"

"You'd really offer…?" He shook his head. "No, it's too risky. I won't let anyone else die."

"We'll all die if that Gate doesn't close," I argued, refusing to back down now. "The daedra won't stop. No matter how many you kill, more will keep coming. Don't tell me you can hold the barricade forever, because we both know you can't!"

Matius stared in amazement, but I pressed on before he could argue. "Look, I'm nobody. Just a random stranger who passed by. It doesn't matter if I die, I'm expendable to you. Let me try to close the Gate – if I do die, then it's no real loss to you and your men."

There were murmurs of agreement amongst the men.

"If she wants to get herself killed, let her."

"Better her than me."

"Suppose she does close it…"

"Let's be realistic here though…"

"That's enough!" Matius barked and the guardsmen quickly snapped back into position. He turned his focus back to me. "I appreciate that you want to help, but it'll probably mean your death though. Are you sure?"

I thought about it. Death. The concept was terrifying, or it had been. But now on the literal brink of Oblivion, knowing I could die if I went in there, the Emperor's words came to mind:

_Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom but not the hour._

Going in there likely meant death. Yet here I was, willing to throw myself into it regardless of the consequences. Perhaps I expected my doom to fall upon me in there. Or maybe…

"If I go into that Gate, I know chances are that I will die. I can face that fact, it's unavoidable." I grinned at Matius in a defiant sort of way. "So knowing that, I've got nothing to fear."

[O]

I felt like a suicidal maniac. I had probably sounded like one too with my little speech outside the gate. I wasn't sure if Matius was impressed or thought I was downright insane, but he had wished me the best of luck regardless.

And so far that was how I had survived. I was incredibly lucky.

I had stumbled upon one of the surviving guards who had entered the Gate, Ilend. He told me another, Menien, had been captured and dragged off to one of the towers that dominated the landscape. When I found him, by mere chance, Menien was able to tell me how to close the Gate, having heard some of the Dremora talking about it.

Now myself and Menien, who I had refused to leave behind, were climbing the central tower, the Sigil Keep to try and finish what the daedra had started. We had reached the Sigil Chamber at the top of the tower and, to my surprise, it was relatively unguarded aside from a couple of dremora and stunted scamps. I managed to kill one of the dremora using a well placed arrow before racing up the stairs with Menien close behind, holding a daedric mace in hand.

Despite his age, which showed clearly through the silver of his hair and the lines in his face, he was still strong and crushed the skull of the second dremora like it was nothing more than parchment.

I cut down the last scamp with a slash of my sword before approaching the Sigil Stone levitating atop the flame pillar.

"So we have to take it to close the Gate?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "The dremora said it was the only way. And apparently anything that doesn't belong on this side gets sent back, so we won't have to worry about making it back in time to escape."

I snorted. "I suppose Mehrunes Dagon really isn't much of a host then."

Secretly though, I was relieved there was no mad dash back involved – I had been worrying that closing the Gate would mean one of us remaining trapped here so the other could escape. I knew I couldn't stall forever though and I took the stone in my hands. It was hot to the touch and was smooth beneath my fingers. I pulled on it, though it wasn't exactly keen to leave its spot levitating in the fire. A force kept it in place, like two magnets pulling together. I pulled harder, tugging it out of the flames.

There was a sound akin to an cannon blast. The fire exploded, going out of control, filling the whole room and spreading beyond. The heat scorched right through me, engulfing my senses as I panicked at the feeling of the ground disappearing from beneath my feet as everything turned white.

[O]

I hit the ground hard as the flames abated and debris of the crumbling gate fell around me. I could feel the Sigil Stone's pulsating calm down into a gentle hum beneath my fingers. Everything was still white for a few moments until it began to clear slowly. I became aware of the rain falling on my face, causing the soot and blood to run and there was a strangled cry of victory, mingled with the dying screams of any remaining daedra.

Suddenly I was being hauled to my feet by the guardsmen with hands clapping me on the back and I found myself in a rough, one arm embrace courtesy of Matius.

"You did it!" He cried hoarsely. "You actually did it! I knew you could!" I highly doubted that, but I accepted the compliment nonetheless as he released me to inspect my injuries. "This is our chance to retake the city and pull those civilians out of the chapel! Let's go!" He drew his sword, face alive with enthusiasm and rekindled hope as he led his men into the city. I made to follow when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

It was Ilend.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You saved my life and brought me back from hell. Thank you."

"No worries." Suddenly I remembered Menien. He had been with me when I secured the stone but I didn't know if he had made it out. I didn't see him immediately and wondered if you had to be touching the stone to escape. I asked Ilend.

"The old codger is fine. Wounded, but alive. I'm about to take him back to the encampment and then I'll join the rest of you."

"Okay. Take care Ilend," I said, nodding.

"Just leave some of those bastards for me to kill!"

I laughed, genuinely and affirmed I would before turning back towards the city gates and following the guards of Kvatch.

[O]

It was mayhem as we charged through the plaza, the daedra clearly unprepared but recovering quickly enough to fight back. They outnumbered us initially, but our surprise attack caught them off guard and we had the upper hand, slashing our way through the scamps and dremora that were running around.

It didn't take long to secure the area with minimal injuries and, thankfully, no casualties, though I feared the rest of the city was likely overrun at this point and would be a lot harder to reclaim.

I was pulling a few arrows out of a dremora when Matius signalled for us to gather nearby the chapel.

"Good work boys-"

"And girls," one of the guards added.

Matius nodded in exasperation, as though this was a common occurrence. "Yes, and girls. Now that we've secured the plaza it's safe to pull the people out of the chapel. You." He was looking at me. "You said you were looking for someone?"

"Yes sir?"

"When you've found them, can you help us take back the rest of the city? You've clearly got more combat experience than these men, seeing as you've closed the Oblivion Gate."

"I don't know about that, but yes. If I can help, I will." He looked relieved and he turned to lead us into the chapel.

Matius said he couldn't wait long for me, so if it was going to take a while then he would go on ahead and I would have to catch up with them. I warned him that was likely the case. I didn't know what to expect from Martin but I knew convincing him that he truly was Emperor Uriel Septim's son was going to be a momentous task at best.

Inside, Matius stopped to speak to one of the two guards inside whilst I went to find Martin. Fortunately one of the other civilians was happy to point him out to me as he spoke to another man. As I crossed the room, I heard whispers and suddenly became aware that people were looking at me as I made my way over to the priest. The man who had been speaking to Martin pointed at me as I walked over before sloping away.

"Excuse me, you're Martin right?"

If he was surprised that I knew his name, he didn't show it beyond his eyebrows flicking upwards for a brief moment. "Yes I am. And you're the one who closed the Oblivion Gate and helped to drive back the daedra. Thank you."

He bowed his head and I felt myself flush slightly with embarrassment. Had word really passed around that quickly? Then again, I had hardly been the first inside and the people had turned to the guards quickly for information. Had so-and-so lived, how many had died, was there going to be a Kvatch left after all this, what was going on; the list went on.

"It was nothing," I laughed slightly, before returning to a more serious disposition. "I was sent to find you."

His face had been rather neutral before, but it became slightly suspicious now. "Sent? By whom?"

"The Emperor."

His face darkened, his brow furrowing. "The Emperor is dead. Who are you? What do you really want with me?"

"I'm the person who just helped save the lives of the people holed up in here and is going to go and throw herself to more daedra on behalf of this city, so it'd be nice if you dropped the scowl," I said irritably. His reaction was understandable but after everything that had just occurred, I'd prefer it if he just co-operated for now. "Look you are Martin right? The priest?"

"Yes I'm a priest. Do you need a priest? I don't think I'll be much help to you," he muttered, turning to walk away.

"And what if I told you that you were the son of the Emperor," I said, quietly enough so that the others wouldn't hear it. Martin froze in his tracks and looked at me, eyes wide.

"What?" He breathed in disbelief.

"Citizens, it's time to move out!" I looked around to see the guard that Matius had been addressing was waiting by the door as the civilians began to pick up whatever meagre belongings that they had managed to salvage and headed for the door.

"Look, I'll explain properly later," I groaned. "I promised Matius I would help take back the city. Here's the basics: Emperor Uriel Septim is your father, he told me to find you before he was murdered. I'm a friend and I want to help, wait for me in the encampment and I'll be back as soon as I can."

I darted off towards the door that would lead us into the rest of Kvatch.

"Now hold on a minute," Martin growled, following after me. "You can't say something like that, expect me to believe it and just run off!"

"I'm sorry," I said forcefully, turning to face him. "Like I said, I will explain everything as best I can when I get back. Jauffre can tell you whatever I can't answer, but for now you'll have to trust me."

"And just why would I do that?" He snapped.

I turned to face him, smiling grimly. "Would I have risked my life jumping into an Oblivion Gate just so I could lie to you?"

He looked completely bewildered but before he could say anything else on the matter he was shepherded away by one the guards towards the door that would lead him to safety. He looked at me once more before leaving. I turned to Matius and nodded. He knew what it meant. I was ready to go.  
>The Captain grinned at me before turning to the guards at large.<p>

"Right men, let's move out. For Kvatch!"

[O]

The castle was in as poor a state as the rest of Kvatch and I felt my heart sink horribly at what was awaiting us further in. We had cleared out a lot of the city which had been overrun, as I had feared, but our primary concern was the rescue of the Count. And the prospects of that looked bleaker by the moment.

I powered ahead of the rest of the men, hacking my way past the scamps that were running around and trying to stop us. Even with the gate closed, they weren't giving in. The deeper I went though, the worse the destruction became.

By the time I reached the Count's private quarters, I knew all hope was lost. I pushed the door open to find the room a complete wreck. A candle had toppled over and the drapes were aflame. The sheets had been torn from the bed and the hangings were dangling by a mere thread. And lying in the middle of the room, face down in a pool of his own blood, was the Count. I stared.

I hadn't even known the man, yet here I was feeling ashamed for my inability to save him. I crouched over the body and pulled a signet ring from his finger, bearing the crest of Kvatch. I had a feeling that this was important and that Matius would want it, so I turned and headed back down the corridor, the ring clenched in my fist.

Upon my appearance in the main hall, Matius dashed over.

"What are you doing back here? Where's the Count?!" He demanded, confused and clearly not wanting to hear what I was about to say. I stood before him and was aware that all eyes were on me.

I didn't reply with words. I simply held out the blood stained ring. Matius stared at it in disbelief as he took it, his hands shaking somewhat as it dropped into his palm. A shocked silence blanketed the room at the sight of it.

They didn't have to believe me. They didn't know me. I could have murdered the Count for all they knew and taken the ring before blaming it on the daedra. I could have been a part of the sacking of Kvatch for all they cared. I was nobody to them. A stranger. An expendable resource.

But they did believe me and bowed their heads in gratitude for my help and for securing the Count's ring.

After that, we cleared the castle of any remaining daedra, though there weren't many left and after learning of the Count's death, it felt almost pointless to do so. But we did because, according to Ilend, Kvatch had been burnt to the ground once and was rebuilt from the ashes. And the people of Kvatch would do it again. So we scoured the whole place from top to bottom, until every daedra lay dead upon the floor. I returned to the encampment with Ilend after that.

I had some of the worst injuries, considering my adventure into the realm of Oblivion and the following Battle for Kvatch, so Matius ordered me back to the encampment for treatment. Meanwhile, the Captain and the rest of the guard remained to ensure the whole city was secured.

When we reached the encampment, the whole place burst into applause. It took Ilend nudging me in the side for me to realise it was _me_ whom they were applauding. It seemed that word of my closing the Gate and helping to retake the city had spread through the rest of the survivors rather quickly. Everyone wanted to talk to me or shake my hand or thank me for my bravery but I was exhausted, battered and sore which didn't go unnoticed.

"Brother Martin can fix you up," one woman from the chapel said, leading me over to one of the tents, patting my arm gingerly. "He's been tending the wounded ever since he got back."

"Good, I need to talk to him anyway."

She left me at the entrance to return to her friends who she had been sharing a tearful reunion with. I pushed back the flap and stepped inside. Martin looked up from where he had been sitting, arranging a myriad of potions and bandages and smiled wryly.

"You're back," he said. "Thank goodness. I'll admit I've had my doubts about your story…"

"Good or else I'd think you were mad," I sighed as I sat on the floor opposite him. The action caused my cuirass to rub against a burn on my back which caused a jolt of pain to erupt from it. "Ah shit…"

"You're wounded," he pointed out. "Let me take a look, then we can talk."

I let him tend the wounds, cleaning them of the ash and grime that had imbedded themselves into the skin before bandages were applied. The burns were the worst by far and it was relieving when he applied a salve to them. It was like all the heat was taken from them at once and it was impossible to retain the sigh of contentment at the cold relief. Martin hummed lightly, giving me healing potions to accelerate the healing process.

Once everything was taken care of, we sat down and I explained myself in full as I had to Jauffre. When I finished my story, Martin sat in stunned silence, looking at the floor, his eyes calculating.

"If this is all part of some divine plan I don't think I want any part of it," he murmured, more to himself than to me.

"Plan or not, we need your help," I pointed out. He looked around at me, one eyebrow raised quizzically. "The truth is that my memory extends back about two weeks. Before I met your father, I had no memories at all aside from my own name. I don't remember anything about these Nine Divines people keep going on about, yet here I am anyway. Gods or no, we have to do something."

He sat there for a few moments, thinking before finally caving in. "Alright then," he sighed. "I'll go with you to Weynon Priory and hear what Jauffre has to say. As strange as it sounds, I do believe you. I think you're telling me the truth."

I sighed in relief for what was perhaps the thousandth time that day. "Thank you. We'll need to leave as soon as possible. I'm sure Jauffre's having kittens over whether or not you're alive."

Martin just raised an eyebrow at me and I shook my head, giggling slightly at the image of the very serious Grandmaster with kittens climbing all over him. But it was hardly an appropriate time, so we turned to travel plans quickly.

We decided to depart in the morning after resting and having something to eat, whilst following the main roads. It meant a full two weeks of travel but it meant reducing the risks of being attacked by wild animals. It was best to be in good condition, so I left the tent to find somewhere to sleep.

In the end, I chose to take a tree and nestled myself into the crook of a branch, my cloak draped over me like a blanket. Menien turned up after a while, bandaged and bruised but very much alive and carrying a plate of food which he passed up to me. I took it gratefully and bolted it down so fast, one might think I'd never eaten in my life. After that, I settled down to sleep.

It felt natural to lie up in the tree like this and I wondered how often I did before my memory was wiped. But I was too exhausted to ponder anything else and, coupled with the warm feeling of a full belly, I fell asleep almost instantly.

**To be Continued…**


	3. Attack on Weynon Priory

I quickly learnt that Martin was not the most sociable person in the world. He mostly kept to himself and followed a short distance behind me as we walked along the road. The most trouble we encountered was the occasional imp and I managed to deal with those with a well-aimed arrow before it could do any real harm. But at most, the journey was awkwardly quiet. And after two days it was starting to become frustrating.

Skingrad appeared down the road half way through the third day which was a relief. Supplies had been running low since the previous morning. Jauffre had assumed there would be an opportunity to restock in Kvatch and only gave me enough supplies for one person. My shortcut to Kvatch had reserved some of the food, but it didn't last long and I became aware of the stomach growling. If it bothered Martin, he didn't say anything about it.

I had seen the city a few days ago, but hadn't been inside and it was my first experience in such a busy environment. Kvatch didn't count for obvious reasons and it was overwhelming at first. I stared at all the people moving to and fro; there were so many. It was loud as the bells of the chapel rang over the chatter of people and the shouts of merchants moving their wares. It took a Martin tapping me on the shoulder to drag me from my stupor.

"Sorry," I muttered. "It's just… huge."

He chuckled for the first time in days as we proceeded through the streets, all the while keeping a look out for any potential enemies. There was no one in red robes and peculiar armour, though it struck me that they wouldn't wear something so flashy in the middle of a city street. It'd be easier to opt for subtlety in such a busy environment. Made it easier to slip a knife into our backs and get away without being seen. At that thought I stuck closely to Martin and kept looking over my shoulder for anyone suspicious.

We arrived at the Two Sisters Lodge, hoping to find room to sleep for the night. It would be a nice alternative to a tree or cave floor. As it was the middle of the day it was relatively quiet at the moment, with a few people sat in the corner puffing on pipes and nursing mugs of ale. All of them were wearing hoods and I couldn't help but feel nervous about them.

"I'm Mog gra-Mogakh," the orc woman greeted as we walked over to the bar. "The proprietor of the Two Sisters Lodge. How can I help you?"

"You wouldn't have any free rooms for the night, would you?"

"We only have one left, other than that we are fully booked. Want it?" I glanced at Martin and then the strangers in the corner. I noticed one of them, an argonian, was watching us out of the corner of his eye. I felt my stomach flip for some reason.

"It's better than nothing. How much?" I paid over a handful of coins and took the key from her.

"Thank you for your business. Enjoy your stay."

[O]

The room was fairly large. There was one bed with a desk in the corner and an old couch against the wall. The wallpaper was peeling slightly and the stone floor was covered in thick rugs. Heavy drapes framed the curtains and the door was well reinforced. That was a small comfort. I dropped my pack onto the couch and peered out of the window. The lodge sat on one of the quieter streets and there weren't many people outside.

"Looking for something?" Martin asked. I looked around and saw his eyes were flicking towards the bookshelf next to the desk.

"I don't know, are you?" I laughed. "I'll go get supplies, you stay here. And lock the door behind me, just in case."

I waited outside of the door until I heard the metallic click of the lock and made my way out onto the street. The cloaked people in the corner were still there and none of them looked up as I exited. Perhaps I was being paranoid after all, but I decided not to be gone too long.

I returned to the lodge carrying bags of food and some new arrows. I was running low and I would be damned if I was making two trips. I'd been doing enough running around for the past two weeks and I was going to take a break if only for five minutes. The door was still locked when I arrived, but before I could knock (or rather kick, given that my hands were full) and have Martin open the door, I noticed something jammed in the crack between the door and the frame. A small, folded up piece of parchment. It hadn't been there when I left.

I deposited the bags on the floor and took it between my thumb and index finger, wriggling it up and down carefully as I tried my hardest not to tear it. It took a few frustrating minutes until I finally pried it free.  
>I unfolded the parchment, smoothing it out over my thigh. It was badly crumpled with splashes of drink in places. But there, inked in a hurried scrawl, was one word:<p>

_Run_

[O]

"Where are we going?" Martin asked, trying to keep up as I practically flew down the stairs and out of the door. "What's going on? What happened?"  
>I didn't reply with anything other than: "Just run!"<p>

We were clear of the city walls within minutes but I didn't stop running until Skingrad lay in the distance behind us. Even then, I kept walking, looking over my shoulder and bow ready with an arrow nocked in place. There was no sign of pursuit or anything wrong at all, but I didn't let that deceive me. The last time something seemed relatively okay, I ended up watching the Emperor die before my eyes and Kvatch was reduced to a heap of rubble.

After a few hours of none stop walking and without a word between us, night settled in and it was impossible to continue on safely. I didn't like the idea of stopping now, but in the end I accepted that we were better off not wandering blindly around in the dark and we found the largest tree we could and climbed into the branches. I strapped my pack to one of the branches and settled against the trunk.

"What's going on?" Martin asked irritably, somewhere to my left. "Why did we have to leave in such a hurry?"

"A little bird tipped me off," I replied, pulling out the note and handing it him. "It just said to run, no reason why. But I decided not to take a chance. Better safe than sorry."

"Who gave it to you?"

"No one. I found it jammed in the door when I got back. Someone left it there for a reason. I just wish I knew why."

"Better safe than sorry," he said, echoing my words.

"Exactly. Now go to sleep, I'll keep watch for now."

Martin eventually fell asleep, as evident by the sound of gentle breathing that came from where he was sitting. But I remained awake and alert, bow ready and eyes squinting through the darkness for any sign of movement.

There was no sign to suggest anything out of the ordinary at all and after a while I turned my mind to the note and its sender.  
>Who had left it there and why? Why not give it to me directly? Were they tricking me or just being subtle? Had it been there for me at all, or was it for someone else to find?<p>

I shook my head. No, if someone else was meant to find it then they wouldn't have left it in our door. And if it was for Martin, it could have been slipped under the door after I left. That could only mean that the note had been intended for me. So why was I the one who had to run? And from what?

It was at times like this that my missing memory was a huge disadvantage. For all I knew, I should recognise the handwriting. Perhaps 'run' didn't mean to run. Perhaps I was supposed to know about some sort of meeting place to find whoever sent it. Perhaps I would understand if I could just remember. But as per usual, any recollections evaded me and it was all I could do not to shoot my arrow in frustration.

After a few hours, Martin stirred and insisted on taking up watch so I could rest. I tried to deny being tired, but a yawn escaped me so I accepted my defeat and settled to sleep. When I awoke, the sun was up and I had to blink a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight.

Then I realised Martin was gone. I let out a frantic noise and dropped to the ground, looking around, preparing myself for the worst.

"Martin?!" I shouted, looking around.

"It's fine." I jumped, raising my bow and whirled around to see him appearing from between the trees.

"Bloody hell," I groaned, lowering the weapon again. "Give me a bloody heart attack why don't you? Where did you go?"

"Let's just say that when you've got to go, you've got to go." I didn't want to know anything else and let it lie. I climbed back into the tree to retrieve my pack from its branches.

I had thrown the food in haphazardly in my rush the previous day, so it was a bit squashed but it didn't detract from the taste. We ate as we walked. I wanted to reach Weynon Priory as quickly as possible. So I proposed we cut through the Great Forest to cut down travel time and Martin didn't argue.

[O]

"You know, I really hate imps," I groaned as I flopped to the cave floor. "I might not remember anything, but I can't have hated anything as I much as I hate those foul little beasts."

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" Martin commented, shaking back his sleeve to expose the scratches on his arm where one particularly nasty imp had caught him.

He placed a hand to it and a faint light glowed between his fingers and the skin pulled together again, looking good as knew.

"Only my name and that I was born under the Thief, that's it. Don't know where I came from, if I had a family or anything. I just woke up in a prison cell with a Dunmer taunting me for two days straight," I replied, looking at my own scratches.

My armour hadn't done much to deflect the imp's claws, being as damaged as it was. Bloody daedra. If it hadn't been for the damn Gate and its demons causing as much damage as they had, I would have fared better just now.

"What is your name?" I looked up, confused. "You never told me."

"Oh. I'm Aerrun. And I hate imps." He chuckled, shaking his head at the extra comment and I grinned. "What about you? Imps a favourite of yours?"

"Well I can't proclaim any particular fondness for them."

For some reason we ended up laughing, as though it was the funniest thing in the world. It was a bit stupid honestly – if any more of the little beasts were hiding deeper in, we were giving away our position whilst being particularly vulnerable due to our distraction. But no such thing happened and we eventually calmed ourselves again. I brushed a strand of hair out of my face and returned to looking at the long scratches in my arm. I touched my fingers to them and winced at the sudden shot of sharp pain.

"Here, let me-!" Martin paused, staring. I frowned and followed his gaze to see a faint light leaked from my fingers and the skin suddenly began to stitch itself closed. I yelped and drew my hand away in fright. The light faded and the skin pulled apart again, blood dribbling out.

"Martin, what-?"

"Healing magic," he said, shuffling over and taking my arm. "You didn't even realise you could use magic?" He sounded incredulous at the thought that someone could use magic and not even know it. I flushed slightly.

"No," I murmured, still shocked at the revelation. "Memory loss, remember?"

"You should be able to feel it within yourself though," he said, placing his hand over the scratches and closing them with his own magic. "An energy within yourself that you tap into." I frowned as I felt the skin close again.

When Martin released my arm, I looked at it closely. There wasn't even a mark left behind and if I hadn't known any better, the imp might have never even attacked me at all.

Pulling off my boot, I inspected another scratch on my leg. It was far shallower than the ones on my arms. I decided to experiment. I placed my hand over the scratch and concentrated. The light glowed beneath my palm and it took a bit of self-control to not pull away again at the bizarre sensation of my skin repairing itself under my palm. Once the light faded, I drew my hand back to find the scratch was gone without a trace.

It was almost embarrassing how excited I was about it but Martin chuckled and praised it regardless. He taught me more about magic and its purposes. It used an energy called magicka that most beings had a grasp of, though some had a stronger grasp than others.

Some people's magicka was practically non-existent, whilst others were incredibly powerful from their abundance of the energy. It all came down to chance, though some races were naturally more proficient than others. Magic could be divided up into many different types: Destruction, Restoration, Illusion, Conjuration and Alteration. Depending on the effects of a spell, they were sorted into the types of magic.

The Mages Guild, the Psijic Order and the College of Winterhold in Skyrim were comprised of those who dedicated their lives to the research and use of magic.

"You can use magic," I pointed out. "Are you a mage?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm a priest, remember? I was a mage once in my youth though. I was a student of the Arcane University, until…" He trailed off, brow furrowing. His eyes had darkened suddenly, something lurking out of sight behind them.

"Until?" I prompted, leaning forward a little.

"We'd best keep moving," he said abruptly, standing up and moving towards the mouth of the cave as quickly as possible. "Let us proceed to Weynon Priory."

I sat there a moment longer, staring after him in surprise before getting to my feet and gathering up my pack and weapons before running to catch up to him. But I couldn't help but wonder, as we walked, what could have caused such a shadow to appear in his eyes.

[O]

After a few days, it seemed the conversation in the cave had passed and Martin taught me how to focus my magic and use it properly. He mostly focused on Restoration magic and healing minor injuries.

"It's best to start small with magic," he explained one day. "If you try to start too big, then you could end up causing a lot of damage to the space and people around you, not to mention the harm you could pose to yourself. People have died from attempting magic they weren't ready to use. Magic may be incredibly useful as a tool but also incredibly dangerous."

Martin often emphasised the dangers of magic and the importance of taking it slowly. I had the feeling he was speaking from personal experience, but I didn't pry any further. Clearly something had happened at the Arcane University that caused him to leave but after his reaction to my question yesterday, I got the feeling I might not want to know.

So I did as he said and focused on mastering simple spells as we went. I had totally forgotten about the note I had found in the Two Sisters Lodge by that point.

After a week had passed since leaving Skingrad, we came onto the Black Road. We were less than a day away from Weynon Priory at this point and I felt relief sink into my bones at this point. I hadn't quite gotten the chance to rest in Skingrad as I had hoped, but hopefully in the time it took Jauffre to explain matters to Martin, I'd get the chance to give my feet a break.

And once again, it was too much to ask for.

[O]

I could see smoke from a chimney furling into the sky over the tree tops that indicated the Priory was just up ahead. I was about to point it out, but I saw that Martin's face had hardened somewhat and his hands were incessantly tugging at his robes every few seconds.

"Would you just relax?" I sighed, smiling slightly. "It'll be fine."

"Help! Help!" I looked around and felt my heart hit the bottom of my stomach at the sight of a dunmer running towards us at full speed, screaming.

'No. No, no, no, for one day couldn't things go right?!' I screamed internally, not willing to outwardly show panic and alarm Martin. This always seemed to happen, the moment I thought things were going to be okay.

The dunmer skidded to a halt before us, face flushed and eyes wild with fear. "You must help us! They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory! Prior Maborel is dead!"

"Calm down," Martin said gently, placing a hand on the panicking elf's shoulder. "Now tell us what happened."

"I-I was in the sheepfold at the time. I heard Prior Maborel talking to someone and looked around the corner to see who it was. They were travellers, looked ordinary enough. Suddenly, weapons appeared in their hands and they cut down the Prior before he could move! They saw me watching and I ran," he finished lamely. "Please, you must help us! I think they're right behind me!"

At that moment I saw the all too familiar gleam of red and black clad figures running towards us, brandishing weapons as black as night.

"Move," I snapped, loading an arrow and firing it at the foremost runner of the group. By a stroke of luck, it went straight through one of the eye holes and, with a scream, she fell to the ground, armour melting away and knocking down the attackers who had been behind her. They sprawled to the ground, but one had moved out of the way fast enough and swung his mace hard at my head.

I ducked and made to pull out my sword when a sudden burst of light struck him and he collapsed to the ground with a scream. The assassin was nothing more than a smoking corpse.

I looked up at Martin whose outstretched hand was still throwing off sparks.

"Now you can see just how dangerous magic is," he said sternly, facing the assassins who were now struggling back to their feet.

"I'll take the one on the right." I aimed my next arrow, though it bounced off of the assassins armour and I barely moved out of the way, the dagger skimming past my left ear.

I seized my sword this time and stabbed my opponent in the thigh. He shrieked in pain and fury, but could not react before I slashed at his neck. The spray of blood showered down my front as he fell. There was another scream as the last of the enemy fell dead to the ground, smoking like the first. I was suddenly very glad Martin was on my side.

I turned back to the dunmer, who had been cowering behind a tree as the fight unfolded.

"Where's Jauffre?"

"In the chapel. Praying I think."

"Right. I need you to go to Chorrol and alert the guards as to what's happened. And hurry," I instructed. He didn't need telling twice. The dunmer ran as fast as his old legs would carry him down the road. I turned to Martin and nodded. We had to find Jauffre.

[O]

We slipped inside. The chapel here was nowhere near as large as the Chapel of Akatosh in Kvatch, but that was to be expected. I saw that the assassins had backed Jauffre into a corner at the back of the chapel, but the old Blade had not gone down without a fight. The room was a mess and blood was splattered over the floor and judging from the dark patches on his robes, most of it belonged to his attackers.

I looked at Martin and pressed a finger to my lips before creeping forwards silently, weaving between the upturned and shattered pews. If Jauffre had seen me, he didn't give it away.

"Give it up old man. It's over."

"That's right. Play nice and we'll make it quick and painless. If not…" There was a dark, twisted laugh from the pair and they were both so busy boasting, it wasn't until I slit the first's throat did either of them realise what was happening. Before she could even react to her companion's death, I stabbed the other in the face. She didn't even get to scream. She flopped dead as her armour melted away and she fell to the floor, motionless.

For a few moments there was silence before Jauffre stepped forwards. He was a mess. His lip was bloody with a dark bruise swelling on his jaw. His robes were dishevelled, torn and covered in blood.

"Thank Talos you're back. I fear the Amulet of Kings was the target of this attack, we must hurry and ensure its safety. I kept it in a hidden room in the Prior House," he said swiftly.

"I'll check on the Amulet," I offered, moving towards the doors, but Jauffre overtook me.

"We'll go together," he asserted firmly. "Though I fear that we may be too late." He swept out of the chapel, passing right by Martin without a word as though he wasn't even there. I gestured for Martin to follow and we proceeded carefully.

There was no sign of any other assassins, but these were people who seemed to step out of the shadows themselves, so I didn't trust myself to believe we were safe just yet.

The Priory house had been ransacked. Brother Piner lay on the floor, though Martin assured us he was only knocked out. I could see his chest moving up and down and knew he was better off in Martin's care as I followed Jauffre up the stairs. The study was as much a mess as the main hall and chapel. They had indeed been searching for something. Two doors stood open, one hanging off of its hinges mournfully. My stomach knotted horribly at the sight. Jauffre entered first and I remained close.

He was bent over a steel strong box on the shelf, his face whiter than a sheet. The lock was smashed, lying pitifully on the floor and the box was empty. "It's gone! The Amulet of Kings has been stolen, the enemy has defeated us at every turn!" He lamented, slamming down the lid.

"No they haven't, I've got Martin."

A weak smile that looked more like a grimace appeared on the Grandmaster's face. "So it has not all gone against us. Thank Talos for that. We gained Uriel's heir but lost the Amulet of Kings. But Martin cannot stay here. We have driven them off but they will be back once they learn of Martin's survival. Which they will."

He said it with such finality, I couldn't help but feel unnerved by it. Just how extensive was this mysterious enemy and what did they hope to achieve?

Apparently Jauffre didn't know either.

"So where will Martin be safe then?" I was exhausted from and in need of a rest and it was quickly becoming apparent that would only happen once Martin was safe.

"Nowhere is truly safe from the powers arrayed against us. But we must play for time…" He paced the length of the room for a few moments, thinking deeply before seemingly coming to a conclusion. "Cloud Ruler Temple. The hidden fortress of the Blades, in the mountains near Bruma. A few men can hold it against an army. We should leave at once."

I knew it was the only way, but it didn't stop my heart from sinking slightly. There went my hopes of getting even a short rest. It seemed I'd be spending a lot of my time running around, so it seemed that I would just have to get used to it.

Unfortunately, Jauffre didn't have any more armour on hand and told me that I'd have to get it repaired when we reached Bruma. There would be no time to go to Chorrol as the enemy would regroup and attack if we didn't leave as soon as possible, so I changed into my doublet and trousers. If anything, it was more comfortable and would stand out less than armour. It wasn't like it was protecting me properly anyway.

I made my way downstairs to see that Jauffre had finished explaining the plan to Martin and that Brother Piner had come around. Battered, but very much alive. When I approached, Jauffre turned to me promptly.

"We'll use the horses to reach Bruma. You may as well take Prior Maborel's; he won't be needing it anymore."

[O]

We departed before the guards arrived. Jauffre said he didn't want the trouble of dealing with the report of the attack and left the job to Brother Piner and Eronor, the dunmer who had alerted us to the attack. They weren't to report anything about the Amulet of Kings or Martin. As far as the guards were to know, the attack was completely unprovoked. There was no need for word of Martin's escape to get out.

We followed the Orange Road north towards Bruma. Jauffre took the lead and I took the rear with Martin in between. I kept my bow across my lap, ready for use in case anything attacked us. But it seemed the horses, with their size, kept any of the wildlife from getting too gutsy. Any wolves just gave us a wide berth as we rode past, clearly intimidated by the large beasts. It was quite the advantage.

The days passed slowly, Jauffre assuring me the trip would only last about a week but it felt far longer. In the evenings when we stopped to rest, I would take the liberty of scouting ahead for any signs of trouble. There was never anything of the sort, but it felt better to be safe than sorry. So on the evening of the fifth day, I wandered further up the road to scout ahead as Jauffre and Martin remained behind to tie up the horses and sort out something to eat.

The weather was growing colder, I noticed, though the setting sun glowed through the trees, casting amber light over the ground. It was beautiful, but I kept in mind just how deceptive appearances could be. This place might be beautiful, but it didn't mean the things lurking here weren't dangerous. I kept my sword in hand as I walked, looking around and straining my ears. It was all quiet, as per usual. It didn't look like anyone was following us or lying in wait. I turned around to head back when I heard the snapping of a twig just off the path. I paused and listened. I didn't hear anything else, but the flicker of movement caught my eye. I tightened my grip on the blade handle and crept into the trees.

I looked around. I knew I had seen something. There was another 'crack!' and I spun on my heel, looking around, heart thumping. Then, a deer streaked out from behind a dense cluster of bushes and took off through the woods. I laughed, feeling like an idiot.

It was just a deer. I supposed I must have been wanting something to happen, just to prove my evening ventures weren't for nothing. But then again, it was better for it to be dull. Safer. I turned to return to the path.  
>But then it happened and it happened fast.<p>

Someone seized me from behind, knocking my sword from my hand where it spun over the ground to the other side of the clearing.

My captor pinned me to their chest so tightly, I could feel their heart beating against my back. I struggled, trying to break their grip and free myself but to no avail. Lips pressed to my ear and a voice, soft and light, breathed: "Die."

I saw a sliver of a silver blade aimed right at my neck.

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Hunt for Dawn

I didn't even need to think about it. I threw my hands out, grabbing the knife by the blade and forcing it away from me. My hands exploded with pain as the knife cut my palms and fingers open but I held on tightly as I struggled, throwing my head back into my attacker's face, smashing his nose hard.

He let out a roar of pain and I felt warm blood spray onto the back of my head. My attacker ripped the knife out of my reach before throwing me onto the ground. I landed hard, the wind being knocked out of me. In the brief moment it took me to regain my breath, I was pinned to the ground by his knees, one hand wrapped around my throat. I let out a strangled yell for help, praying that someone, anyone would hear me and come to my aid.

The assailant was draped in black robes and I couldn't see his face beneath his hood though his blood dripped onto my face; I had managed to break his nose it seemed. The knife was raised high in the air, ready to plunge into my heart.

My hands were slick with blood and I couldn't force his grip from my throat which only tightened as I writhed, trying to free myself. I kicked and struggled, but his hold didn't give. He had me where he wanted me and I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for the inevitable.

Then there was another yell followed by a blast. The attacker was thrown off of me and I heard him roll away across the ground roaring in pain, the smell of burning flesh following him. I rolled onto my front, looking up just in time to see black robes whipping out of sight through the trees. Martin and Jauffre burst into the clearing, Martin's hands throwing off sparks and Jauffre had his sword held high, ready to cut down their foe.

I let out a shaky breath and lay back on the ground, my strength flooding out of me. I was saved. It was by the skin of my teeth but I was alive. I felt something trickling down my cheeks. Was I crying?

Martin ran over, looking as though he had been scared half to death. Then I wondered just how loudly I had shouted for them to have heard me. I suppose if anyone had screamed that loudly and that desperately, it would be enough to frighten anyone.

"Aerrun are you alright?" He asked, sitting me up. I couldn't really respond except for burying my face into his chest. My whole body felt limp, my palms were shredded and throbbing painfully but I was alive. Was I alright? I didn't know. I was just so damn grateful they had arrived when they did.

"Who was that?" Jauffre said urgently, not lowering his sword. "Was it the enemy? What happened?"

"Jauffre please," Martin said sternly. "She's just been attacked, she's in shock. Let's ask questions later."

"I- Yes, of course," Jauffre conceded quickly, finally sheathing his weapon and bowing his head. "As you wish your highness." I could practically hear Martin's surprised expression at the address but I barely registered it as he helped me to my feet.

I still felt somewhat limp as we returned to the camp, my heart still drumming and I couldn't help but continually look over my shoulder the whole way and every so often I could have sworn I spotted a black hood or a sleeve moving just out of sight.

When we arrived, Martin sat me down to look at my hands. They were a complete mess from where I had struggled to keep the knife away from me. Even as he healed them, he said the skin was delicate and would tear easily until it had healed properly. In the meantime they were bandaged and I was forbidden from going off on my own to scout until we reached Bruma. After the close brush with death, I wasn't prepared to argue. I was too preoccupied trying to get my hands to stop trembling.

Jauffre had retrieved my sword for me, but then demanded I tell him what happened. I knew the sooner I got it over with the better, so I just got on with it in spite of Martin's protests. I assured him it was fine, though in the end there wasn't an awful lot to tell.

"I had been scouting around. I didn't find anything and turned to come back. That's when that man grabbed me and tried to kill me. Whether or not he was with the enemy, I don't know."

"And you're certain you haven't seen him before?" Jauffre asked, frowning and the lines in his face deepening.

"Even if I had, I wouldn't know," I said tiredly. "I didn't even see his face."

Jauffre fell into thought, standing and pacing the camp. "If he was with the enemy, he would have targeted Martin. Yet he went after you. It may be possible that someone from your past wants you dead."

I didn't say anything, I just waited for Jauffre to continue proposing theories, but Martin spoke next.

"If that is the case then it is all the more reason to reach Cloud Ruler Temple as quickly as possible," he said firmly. "And the three of us should remain together until then for safety."

"Martin…"

"Very well, very well," Jauffre huffed, though there was a twinkle in his eyes that might have been pride. "We'd best move on for now. With an assassin in the area, to stay would be folly."

[O]

The cold night chill lasted well into the next day and we hit the snow within hours of daybreak, leaving the amber woodlands behind as the Jeralls rose over us, imposing against the landscape. Just over those mountains was Skyrim, according to the map. The homeland of the Nords, my people. Perhaps my home was just on the other side too.

The throbbing in my hands had subsided mostly, but occasionally when we stopped to let the horses rest, Martin would remove the bandages and apply some of the snow which reduced any soreness. My palms weren't as red anymore but the seams in the skin were noticeably pink so my hands were re-wrapped and we'd continue on. I still kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see the shadow of a black robe but there was never even a slither. Regardless, I kept close to Martin and Jauffre.

Bruma appeared by nightfall in the valley below. I could see dozens of lights, marking the windows of buildings. And rising up behind it was…

"Cloud Ruler Temple," Jauffre said, sounding happier than he had all week. "If we hurry, we can reach it within the hour."

He was excited to return, I knew he was. He acted stuffy and indifferent, but whenever he though Martin and I were asleep, I could see him rubbing his hands together in anticipation and murmuring about returning home for the first time in many years. Neither one of us said anything, but sideways glances always said everything between me and Martin on the subject.

We drove the horses into a trot, skirting along the edges of Bruma's walls. I decided I would go exploring in the morning and get my armour repaired properly. I could hear chatter and singing as we rode by and taking to the road leading up to the temple.

Cloud Ruler Temple was different in architecture to any building I had seen so far from what I could see. The roofs were low and sloping and the walls were even higher than that of Bruma's. I could see torch light moving up and down the battlements. As we drew closer, I realised it was people carrying torches as they patrolled the walls. One of them stopped abruptly as we approached and I thought I heard a shout of: "It's the Grandmaster!"

We came to a halt outside of the gates and dismounted. I patted my horse on the neck and murmured a quick 'thank you' as the gates opened up and a man stepped out to greet them. He wore the same armour as Baurus, Glenroy and Renault had in the tunnels. I then realised it was obvious that he would, considering that he was a Blade. He looked at each of us, though his gaze lingered on Martin, who fidgeted uncomfortably and tugged on the sleeve of his robe which he always did when he was uncomfortable. The Blade then turned to Jauffre.

"Grandmaster, is this…?"

"Yes Cyrus. This is Emperor Uriel's son, Martin Septim."

"My Lord," Cyrus said, bowing lowly. "We have not had the honour of an Emperor's visit in many years."

I tried not to laugh at Martin's look of absolute bewilderment. "Ah, well thank you. The honour is mine."

Jauffre steered Martin towards the steps as Cyrus took the reins of their horses. "Come, your Blades are waiting to greet you." I hesitated, wondering if I was expected to follow and looked to Cyrus for prompt. He just nodded and turned to lead the two horses up the steps, so I followed behind with mine. The gates closed behind us and we emerged at the top just to see the Blades form two lines, with Martin and Jauffre standing before them.

I stood beside Cyrus at the end of the closest line and looked up to where Martin was standing. He was fidgeting again and tugging at the hem of his sleeves before Jauffre stepped forwards to address everyone.

"Blades, dark times are upon us. The Emperor was slain on our watch. But all is not lost. Here stands Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim."

"Hail Martin Septim!" The Blades cried in unison, each pulling out a katana and raising it into the air. "Hail Dragonborn! Hail!"

"Your Highness," Jauffre said, turning to Martin. "The Blades are yours to command."

Martin's eyes found me and were practically screaming for help. I soon realised everyone was waiting for him to speak but his mouth seemed to have lost the ability to articulate sound. I could have laughed but instead I gave my best encouraging smile. It seemed to do the trick as he finally opened his mouth and words came out.

"Jauffre. All of you. I know you expect me to be Emperor. I'll do my best, but… This is all new to me. I'm not used to giving speeches." He faltered, eyes flickering around again but he managed to continue nonetheless. "I just want you to know… I appreciate your welcome here. And I hope to prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days… That's it. Thank you."

He finished lamely and I could sense a flicker of uncertainty amongst the Blades for a moment and perhaps Jauffre did too, as he stepped forwards to fill the awkward silence that was growing across the courtyard.

"Thank you Martin. We'd all best get back to our duties, eh Captain?"

The crowd dispersed as everyone went back to whatever they had been doing before and I quickly weaved through the Blades towards where Martin had been. He was now sat on the steps and I could see he was slightly pale from his nerves. It seemed that the whole thing had been more nerve wracking than I had realised.

"Hey." He looked up at me and smiled weakly.

"Wasn't much of a speech was it? Didn't seem to bother them though. The Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim… I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I would be dead if not for you."

"Says the man who saved my life yesterday," I reminded with a laugh as I sat on the step next to him. But it was almost like he didn't hear me.

"All of a sudden, everyone expects me to know what to do. How to behave. They want an Emperor to tell them what to do and I haven't the faintest idea…"

I knew what he meant. Just over a month ago, I had woken up without a clue as to what was going on. I hadn't known where to start until the Emperor arrived in my cell that fateful day. He told me what to do and that was where I began. Having a goal in mind had kept me alive, given me a better sense of myself and what to do. But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I opted for: "We need to retrieve the Amulet of Kings."

"That's right. So we." He paused and corrected himself. "I can take it to the Temple of the One and relight the Dragonfires."

I gently knocked him on the arm, grinning. "And then you'll be the Emperor."

"The Emperor…" He chuckled, shaking his head. "That's an idea that'll take some getting used to."

"Just don't forget us little people, okay?" He tried to give me a disapproving look, though I just laughed at him.

"I won't. I promise. In any case we need the Amulet first."

"And we have no idea where it is or who took it…" I sighed, resting my chin in my hands, thinking hard but turning up nothing. "Perhaps Jauffre knows something…"

"Perhaps. You should speak to him about it." We both stood up and Martin smiled at me properly this time. "And don't worry about me, my friend. I know I'm in good hands here. Farewell for now."

"See you later, prince boy," I teased as he walked away and I could only laugh at the groan and the way he shook his head in exasperation as he disappeared into the main building. Just as I was wondering where I might find Jauffre, I felt someone tap my shoulder and I turned around to see none other than the person I was looking for standing there, looking slightly exasperated at my antics, though he seemed quite accustomed to it by now as he quickly exchanged it for a look of gratitude.

"You have proved yourself a loyal servant to the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin's side in this crisis. As Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honoured to accept you into our order. Will you join us?"

I paused to consider. In all honesty, I didn't know what else to do. I had nowhere to go and knew very little about anything else at this point. I had seen the Emperor die, faced the hordes of Oblivion and ensured Martin reached this temple. At this point, I knew I was in too deep to just say no. I wanted to help. I wanted to help Martin rightfully claim his throne and make sure that the Emperor's death wasn't for nothing. I knew there was only one answer.

"Yes, I will join the Blades."

[O]

I had to ask a guard for directions to Luther Broad's. It made me nervous that I might be recognised as an escaped criminal and thrown back into prison, but it seemed that either no one knew I had been locked up in the first place or that no one cared. Either way, the guard was perfectly happy to point me in the right direction and said no more as I walked away.

Jauffre had sent me to the Imperial City to find Baurus. The Blade had been working on tracking down the Emperor's assassins ever since we had parted ways nearly two months ago and I was to see if he had found anything and assist him if need be. But finding him was proving to be difficult. I had never been in the Imperial City and it seemed a thousand times bigger than Kvatch or Skingrad. I had tried navigating the place on my own, but after passing the Copious Cutpurse and First Edition at least three times, I knew I had to ask for help.

When I did find the place, I spotted Baurus immediately. I had been warned by Jauffre that when I found Baurus, I was not to speak to him openly right away just in case he was working on a lead. So I took the bar stool next to him and ordered a drink, careful not to so much as make eye contact with him. Aside from the barman, there was one other person in the room. A man was sitting in the corner with a book in his lap, though his eyes were not moving. They remained fixed on the page.

After a few moments, Baurus bent over his mug, ensuring no one else could over hear him.

"Listen. I'm going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner will follow me. You follow him." He barely moved his lips and it came out as a mere hiss. I held my flagon to my lips and pretended to drink.

"I'm ready."

"Good. Just wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he'll do."

Baurus set his mug down and stood, making his way around the corner. I heard the thump of a door closing. The man in the corner tucked his book away and followed behind.

I waited for the sound of the door closing again before standing up and following suit. I eased the door shut so it didn't make any noise before I slunk forwards. I watched from around the corner as the man reached the bottom of the steps and faced a passage turning left. A mace appeared in his hand, identical to the one the assassin who had killed the Emperor had used.

I pulled out a dagger and lunged. He didn't even have time to yell as I seized him from behind, driving the blade through his back. I ripped it out again and the body flopped to the ground, unmoving. Baurus, who had whirled around only just in time to see the body fall. He looked surprised but impressed with the efficiency of the kill.

"Not bad my friend, not bad. Search his body. I'll keep an eye out for any of his friends."

I bent down and rummaged through his pockets. A handful of coins and a few lock picks, which I pocketed. Then I pulled out the small book he had been reading back in the bar. At first I had thought nothing of it, until I saw the cover. Aside from a few splashes of blood, it was purple in colour and decorated with strange runes that I could not read for the life of me. It was a rather handsome book.

I read the title, which was embossed in gold:

_Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes by Mankar Camoran, Volume 1_

I riffled through the pages but none of it made any sense to me. It refused to sink in and I couldn't process whatever the author had written so I looked to Baurus.

"What do you think of this?"

He frowned and took the book from me, flipping through it. Judging from his expression, it didn't make any sense to him either. He snapped it shut too, shaking his head.

"Not a clue. I am glad to see you by the way," he noted. "Jauffre sent word about your new position. Welcome aboard."

"Thanks. So have you found anything?"

"The assassins who murdered the Emperor were part of a daedric cult called the Mythic Dawn. They worship Mehrunes Dagon and I've been tracking their agents around the city." He looked down at the corpse on the floor and smirked. "Guess they noticed."

"Really, I never would have guessed," I sighed, rolling my eyes. Baurus just chuckled and shook his head. "I found the Emperor's heir, Martin Septim."

Baurus clapped his hands together, elated. "Thank Talos he lives! Martin Septim you say? We will restore him to the throne, it is the sworn duty of all Blades!"

"Well it's a little complicated you see… The enemy, the Mythic Dawn. They stole the Amulet of Kings." The smile slid off his face almost as fast as it had appeared.

"They stole the Amulet? Then it's worse than I thought." He shook his head and threw an arm around my shoulders with a smirk on his face. "Come on, Hero of Kvatch. Tell me exactly what's been going on the past two months so maybe we can make sense of any of this."

We sat up in the bar and I relayed everything that had happened since we parted ways in the tunnels beneath the city and Baurus told me his own account of what he had been up to. There had been a funeral for the Emperor and his sons a week following his death with half of Tamriel turning out to pay their respects.

After that, Baurus had been hard at work tracing the assassins and their activities with little success until he stumbled on a lead completely by accident. Since then he had been monitoring them, trying to figure out where their hideout was. It was two days ago he had noticed he was being followed.

The book sat on the counter between us as we tried to figure out how to proceed. It could be key in doing just that.

"There's a scholar at the Arcane University," Baurus said after I asked if anyone knew about the book. "Tar-Meena's her name. She's an expert of daedric cults. Take it to her and see what she makes of it."

I nodded and picked up the book, tucking it into my pack and finishing my drink. "And what will you be getting up to?"

"If you need me, I'll most likely be here. If not, wait here for me. I'll see if I can't run down some more leads on the Mythic Dawn network. Good luck and may Talos guide you."

[O]

The Arcane University was a strange place. I stepped inside the lobby and the first thing that drew my attention was a glowing, runed platform standing to one side of the room which was entirely circular. Several instruments hummed and whirled on the shelves and even the books seemed to give off a strange aura. I wasn't sure I liked it too much.

When I asked for Tar-Meena, the argonian appeared immediately through the doorway. The moment she laid eyes on me, she swept over.

"Ah, you must be the one I got the message about. How may I help you?"

I pulled out the book and held it out to her. "I found one of the books of the Mythic Dawn."

"Mankar Camoran's Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes," she said with an odd fondness in her voice as she took the book and stroke a clawed hand over the cover. She frowned slightly at the blood stains, but didn't ask about them so I didn't say anything. "Wonderful. So you have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?"

"Uh no," I said flatly, having had no clue about any sort of cult before now. "I want to find them."

"Find them? Alright then, I won't poke any further. Official business and all that. I'm used to working with the Blades, don't worry. Say no more."

She said all of this quite rapidly and I had to try to not get distracted by the weird energies in the room for fear I might miss something. "But the Mythic Dawn is one of the most secretive of the daedric cults. Not much is known about them aside from that they follow the teachings of Mankar Camoran, a shadowy figure in his own right."

I wasn't sure if I liked Tar-Meena. The way she spoke of the Mythic Dawn with a loving caress was unsettling at best.

"I've studied the Commentaries, or the books of which I've seen and it is clear from Camoran's writings that there are four books in all. However, I've only ever seen the first two books. I believe that his writings contain hidden clues on how to find the Mythic Dawn's secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Those who unlock this hidden path prove themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrine is the first test. If you're going to find them, you'll need to find all four books."

"Where can I find the rest?" I asked, as she handed the first back to me.

"You can have the library's copy of Volume 2," she said, beckoning me to follow through one of the doors leading off from the lobby.

We came to what was easily the biggest hall I had ever been in. It was packed with book cases that reached from the floor right up to the ceiling and not one of them was short of a single book. Tar-Meena swept over to one of the shelves and pulled down a book that was near identical to the first except the number one was exchanged for a two. "Treat it gently, if you please."

"What about the other two?"

"As I said, I've never seen the third and fourth books. You should try First Edition, in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors and might know where to find those books."

I bowed my head as I left the university, Tar-Meena wishing me luck on my hunt for the Mythic Dawn. I looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was sinking. I hurried to First Edition quickly, but it was already closed by the time I had arrived. I swore but knew there was no point in getting upset over something I couldn't change and decided to head back to Luther Broad's. Baurus wasn't there when I arrived so I paid for a room and decided to head for bed.

**To be continued...**


	5. The Shrine of Dawn

I spent the evening reading the Commentaries, trying to find a trace of the hidden message that would lead me to the Mythic Dawn. But I still struggled to take in any of the text, the wording being far too grand for my tastes. I just couldn't concentrate at all, especially not as the clatter of noise emanating from the bar as it filled with patrons for the evening rush.

I scowled as the volume only seemed to increase as the night went on before finally giving up on pursuing the Commentaries further. I flopped back onto the bed spread and my thoughts turned to Cloud Ruler Temple.

I wondered how things were going. Was Martin adjusting? Had Jauffre managed to turn up any more information on the Amulet of Kings? We couldn't exchange letters with Cloud Ruler. The risk of the couriers being intercepted was just too great so all reports were verbal for now. If the Mythic Dawn found out about Martin's location, it wouldn't be long before they opened Oblivion Gates at the temple.

Just as I was considering trying to sleep, there was a knock at the door. I made to open it, when a thought crossed my mind that made my hands tingle.

The skin had healed well now, though there was scarring across my palms where my hands had been torn open. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of my assailant since the attack on the Orange Road, but that didn't mean he had given up. There was every possibility he was waiting for me to let my guard down and my heart thumped harder at the thought of being at his mercy again. Bleeding palms, hard to breathe, mind in overdrive and unable to fight back… I didn't want to be in a position of feeling so powerless ever again.

There was another knock, slightly louder than the last.

"Who is it?" I asked cautiously, one hand on the door knob, the other on the handle of my sword.

"It is I, Lord Sheogorath and I'm here for all of your cheese, mortal," came the sarcastic reply and I could practically see the eye roll. "Now let me in."

I opened the door and let Baurus in. He raised an eyebrow when I locked the door behind him. "Sorry, just wanted to be sure… Bad memory."

"Anything coming back to you?" He asked, a note of hopefulness in his voice. His face fell slightly when I shook my head.

"No. Just thinking about the assassin who attacked me on the Orange Road," I confessed as I looked away, picking up the Commentaries and placing them on the bedside table. "No such thing as being too careful, right?"

"Right," he murmured. "Did you find anything today?" He picked up Volume 2 of the Commentaries.

"Tar-Meena gave it to me. She said there might be a hidden message which leads to the Mythic Dawn but we need all four books first. I'm going to First Edition tomorrow to ask Phintias about volumes 3 and 4," I explained, sitting back on the bed, propping my sword against the wall.

"Phintias," Baurus chuckled. "Good luck with that. Hope he doesn't give you too much of a tough time."

I frowned slightly, but asked him how his own search was going. It seemed that since dealing with their friend in the basement, the city's cult members had slipped under the radar and Baurus was having no luck in finding them. I bade him good night before locking the door, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. The Mythic Dawn… They were proving a slippery bunch. I just hoped I could catch them soon before the Amulet was taken too far out of our reach.

[O]

First Edition was in the Market District, opposite the Copious Cutpurse. I stepped inside, a bell tinkling as the door opened and found myself in a rather lavishly decorated shop. Drapes hung on the walls with thick plush carpet covering the floors. Behind the counter were rows upon rows of books and scrolls. The air was heavily perfumed to cover the musty smell of old tomes and behind the counter, scribbling away on a scroll of parchment was a finely dressed redguard man who I presumed was Phintias.

I stepped over to the counter and he looked up, not seeming to have heard me enter. He set his quill back into the ink pot, putting on his most professional smile. It looked horribly forced to me.

"Welcome to First Edition, I'm Phintias, the proprietor. Take a look around, if I don't have it maybe I can get it."

I placed the first two of the Commentaries onto the counter and leaned against it, looking right at the redguard.

"I'm looking for Volumes 3 and 4 and was told you might be able to help," I said. Phintias looked down at the books and frowned slightly. Not a good sign.

"I happen to have a copy of Volume 3 on hand," he said and I could just detect the 'but' in his tone. "But it's special order." There it was. "So sorry." He didn't sound sorry. My frown deepened as I wondered why no one could just co-operate from the beginning. It seemed that everyone went out of their way to make matters difficult.

"I need that book," I said firmly, not dropping my glare.

Now I could see what Baurus had meant by Phintias giving me a tough time. I could see it as plain as the nose on his face – he was snobby, stuck up and deliberately unhelpful.

"I'm afraid I can't sell it to you for any price," he said haughtily, positively looking down his nose at me now. "Gwinas would be terribly disappointed if the book was gone when he arrived."

I saw an opportunity and pounced. "Who's Gwinas and why does he want the book?" Phintias froze, realising he had let something slip.

Clearly he hadn't meant to tell me that and his snobbish disposition fell in favour for a nervous fluster.

"I-I don't know him personally," he said hurriedly. "He just placed an order for the book, came all the way from Valenwood! In fact, he's already late for his appointment-! No, forget I said anything!"

"Too late," I said, smiling broadly as I straightened up, knowing I may have hit the jackpot in finding Volume 3. Not to mention it was nice to see the stuck up man sweat. "You don't mind if I wait here for him, do you?"

Phintias just looked away, not even trying to protest at this point. I took volumes 1 and 2 and slipped them back into my pack and went to sit in the corner, watching the door. Eventually, just as I got bored of waiting and flicking through Volume 2 of the Commentaries, the bell tinkled as the door opened and a bosmer entered the room.

I hadn't seen a bosmer before, I just knew he was one. The long pointed ears and tiny stature were a dead giveaway – he barely came up to my shoulders! He was dressed in long, rich red robes with elaborate golden trim and his light hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of his head. He didn't pay me an ounce of attention, heading straight for the counter.

"I'm here for my book, Mankar Camoran's Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Volume 3," he said swiftly. So that was Gwinas. This would be easier than I expected.

Phintias turned back towards his shelves and pulled out the handsome purple book and wrapped it neatly in brown paper before handing it over the counter. "Here you go sir. Please stop by again."

"Thank you," Gwinas said delightfully, taking the book in his hands. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get my hands on this book." It was almost comical that the book, which seemed rather small to me, was much larger in comparison to the elf and I sniggered inwardly at the size comparison.

"Please refer to us for any future needs. Good day," Phintias said, bowing his head. Amazing how amiable a tone he put on for his paying customers. I decided I really disliked Phintias and I wasted no time in following Gwinas out onto the street, knowing that I certainly wouldn't refer to First Edition in future.

I looked around and saw the elf walking down towards the main hub of the Market District and I followed swiftly. I was concerned that, with his being so small, I might lose sight of Gwinas quickly. But in that audacious scarlet robe, keeping track of him was easy. I followed him down a side alley before making my move.

"Excuse me!" I called. The elf spun on his heel, scowling when he saw me.

"Yes," he said irritably. "What is it?"

"I'd like to speak with you about that book." Gwinas froze, eyes widening.

"H-have you been following me?!" He snapped, trying to shove the book out of sight behind his back. "Leave me alone, this book is mine!"

"Just give me the book and I'll leave." I wasn't particularly in the mood for games at the moment. The book was right there, one of the ones I needed if I was going to find the Mythic Dawn and retrieve the Amulet of Kings.

"Are you threatening me?" He squeaked. "You can't scare me! I'll call the guards if you don't leave at once!"

"No you won't."

"What do you mean? I am an upstanding citizen and I have got nothing to hide!"

"Don't play stupid," I hissed, advancing on him now. "Mankar Camoran's Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes – I recall the Mysterium Xarxes being the holy book of the Mythic Dawn, a _daedric_ cult."

Gwinas flinched as I towered over him but he recovered his composure quite quickly. "Fine, I see you are familiar with the Commentaries," he said coolly. "I know that daedric cults aren't quite the thing socially, but that's just foolish prejudice and superstition! For the adventurous, open-minded thinker, daedric worship has many rewards."

Suddenly, I felt my anger flare at his words. I grabbed the elf by the neck of his robes and shook him slightly, his feet dangling several inches off of the floor. "They killed the Emperor you fool!"

The blood rushed out of Gwinas' face, leaving it near colourless. "W-what?" he stuttered, trembling slightly. "The Mythic Dawn are the ones…? Y-You have to believe me! I truly had no idea! I mean I knew they were a daedric cult! Mankar Camoran's views on Mehrunes Dagon are fascinating, revolutionary even!" He was falling over himself at this point, fear wild in his face. "But to murder the Emperor! Mara preserve us!"

I set the elf back on his feet and held out a hand. "You'd better give me that book."

He practically thrust it at me, suddenly repulsed by the thing. "Yes, of course! I don't want anyone to think I had anything to do with any of their insane plots. Volume 3 is yours. Whatever you do with it is your business." He turned to walk away but I knew standing in front of me was perhaps my best bet of securing the final book.

"Wait! I still need volume 4!"

"You can only get volume 4 directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn," Gwinas said, eyes flickering about to keep an eye out for anyone who might overhear. "I had set up a meeting with the Sponsor as he called himself. Here." He held out a scroll that was held closed with a smart red ribbon. "It tells you where to go. I don't want anything more to do with the Mythic Dawn."

"Good. And thanks for your help," I sighed, tucking the book into my pack. "And Gwinas!" He looked back once more. "Sorry for scaring you like that."

He didn't reply, he just hurried away as quickly as possible. I opened the note. The sewers beneath the Talos District. I smiled. I couldn't leave Baurus out on an opportunity like this.

[O]

I stepped into Luther Broad's, feeling much more cheerful than I had since first waking up in the Imperial Prison. I had three of the books and the means of securing the fourth – everything was looking good right now. Baurus was as ecstatic as I was when he read the note from the Sponsor.

"This could be the break we're looking for! Good work!" He said, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Come on, I know that part of the sewers well. Let's get going."

[O]

The sewers stank to high heaven, as did their inhabitants. As we made our way through the labyrinth we encountered mud crabs, skeevers and the occasional goblin, none of whom seemed keen on just leaving us to our business. By the time we reached the location, we were tired, filthy and sodden from the knees down.

"Alright, the room with the table is just beyond this door," Baurus said. "I always wondered who put it there."

"What's up there?" I asked, pointing at the stairs beside us.

"I happen to know that up there is the perfect vantage point of the room," he said with a smirk. "Listen, I'd better take the meeting. You watch my back."

"No, I'll meet the Sponsor."

"Aer…"

"No, hear me out on this," I said in a hushed voice, in case anyone could hear us from the other side. "They know who you are, you've been following them for two months. They've not seen me before, they don't know who I am. It'd be safer that way for both of us. I'll get the book and we can find their shrine."

Baurus tried to come up with a counter argument, but ultimately failed and nodded.

"Fine, we'll do it your way for now," he sighed, looking rather grave. "But listen. I may not survive this and if I don't, you must. No listen!" I had opened my mouth to protest, but I let him speak. "Use the books and find the Mythic Dawn. Make sure you get the Amulet of Kings. Make those bastards pay."

"We both will, you'll see," I said as optimistically as I could manage.

"Sure Aer, we will," he said. He clearly didn't believe me but I turned back to the door as he took the stairs. Once he had disappeared, I proceeded inside.

The room was dank and lit by torch light. A single table sat in the middle of the room with one chair. The note had said to sit down, so I did so.

I looked around and saw the walkway above me. Baurus peered around from the corner and nodded at me before slipping back out of sight. I gave no indication I had even seen him at all.

I heard the click of a gate and looked around to see a mer draped in long red robes. The same as the assassins. The Mythic Dawn Sponsor. He closed the gate behind him and stood before me. I didn't even struggle to resist attacking him. I just sat there, waiting for him to speak.

"So you want to become one of the Chosen of Mehrunes Dagon," he began, pacing around the table, sharp gold eyes fixed on me the whole time, like an overgrown hawk eying up its prey. "The path to Dawn is difficult, but the rewards are great. I have the book you seek. With it and the other three books you have acquired, you will possess the key to enlightenment. But do you have the wit and…"

I tuned him out. On the walkway above, I saw flickering torch light to the left and I felt my insides turn to ice. There were guards and any second now, they were going to spot Baurus and our whole plan could be in jeopardy. It seemed that the Sponsor had noticed my distraction and looked up just as Baurus charged the guards, who yelled at the sight of him.

"I told you to come alone!" The Sponsor roared, turning on me and producing a daedric dagger. "Kill them both!" I leapt forwards, running the Sponsor through before he could even move. He let out a gasp, coughing blood that sprayed on my face and he collapsed, dead. I ripped back his robes and the book fell out. Blood had soaked the cover but, thank the divines, the pages inside were untouched.

"Baurus let's go!" I yelled. But he was locked in combat with the guards. I pulled out my bow and managed to hit one in the head and he crumpled, falling to the floor unmoving. But the other knocked Baurus off balance and tried to throw him from the walkway. The redguard threw out an arm, catching the edge of the walkway by his fingertips and he clung to the stone as his sword fell to the floor, the blade snapping when it hit the ground. "Baurus!"

"Aer go! Run!" He yelled before letting out a yelp of pain. The guard stamped hard on his fingers, determined to let him fall to his death. I nocked another arrow.

"No! I won't let any more of my family die!" I loosed the arrow and hit the guard in the neck. He squealed like a pig and toppled forwards to the ground. Baurus let out a groan of relief and I took the steps two at a time, grabbing his free hand and pulling him up again. We fell to the ground, breathing hard. I strained my ears, but no one else came running. "Are you alright?"

"You're a crazy moron, you know that? You should have ran."

"And left you to die? No way, I already let one person die on my watch." I sat up and fixed him with a hard look. "I won't let it happen again."

We were silent for a long moment, sitting there. I looked at the book and wiped away some of the blood from the cover. It was still decipherable under the crimson stains and the pages were clear to read. It was fortunate, otherwise it would have been for nothing.

"Aer… Thanks for not running."

"You're welcome," I said softly. "Just make sure it was worth it and don't die."

Baurus chuckled and we got to our feet steadily. "I'm going to head back to Cloud Ruler Temple. My place is at Martin's side. You'd best take that book to Tar-Meena and find out where the Mythic Dawn are."

"Right. Good luck Baurus."

[O]

Tar-Meena and I sat up all night, trying to decipher the books. Well, she deciphered. I mostly just took the notes for her as she worked. We tried so many ways of looking for a message but nothing presented itself and I was growing frustrated with it. I threw down my quill.

"This is getting ridiculous," I groaned, stretching out. Tar-Meena just chuckled lightly as she studied the fourth volume. Using magic, she had removed the rest of the blood stains and I assured her that once I found the Mythic Dawn, she could keep the books. I'd have no need of them after that. "Are you sure there's a message hidden in these things?"

"Of course," she said calmly, one claw tracing each line as she read, not even looking up at me. She was absorbed in the text. "Perhaps it is only revealed through magic?"

"Pretty crap for anyone who wants to join and can't use magic then," I muttered, pulling the first volume towards me. Tar-Meena had marked multiple pages with strips of parchment, each with notes and words scrawled on them. But as I tried to read, none of the words went in. It was then I noticed.

"Green."

"Hm?" Tar-Meena looked up.

"Tar-Meena, I'm either really tired, or the first letter of each paragraph in this book spells 'green'."

"Let me see that!" She snatched the book from my hands and looked. "Then this is… Yes, this spells green! There must be a message spelt out using the first word of every paragraph!"

It seemed so stupidly obvious that I felt stupid for not noticing for so long. We had assumed the message would be much harder to find, yet there it was, plain as day. I felt a surge of excitement at the break through and picked up my quill again. Tar-Meena went through each book, telling me the first letter of every paragraph until we had:

_Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun_

"Does this mean…?" I asked, turning back to the argonian.

"You know Green Emperor Way? The gardens surrounding the Imperial Palace? Something must be revealed there at about noon! How exciting! I have half a mind to go to Green Emperor Way and see what's there myself!" She paused but then shook her head. "Well good luck Aerrun. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"If I do, maybe I'll come back and let you know," I said, stretching out again before looking out of the window. It was still dark but dawn couldn't be too far away. "I'll head back for Luther Broad's for now, then head for Green Emperor Way tomorrow. Thanks Tar-Meena, you've been a massive help."

She simply waved it off and placed the books back into a stack. I took them with me, just in case I needed them to get into the shrine, though I promised to bring them back once I was done with them.

When I returned to the inn, it was packed, as it normally would be at this time of night. The usual patrons were gathered at the bar, singing and laughing at the top of their lungs. But as I walked past a table to reach the stairs, a chill shivered down my spine. I looked around to the patron at the table in the corner.

A man clad in a long black robe with a hood concealing his face.

I felt as though I were rooted to the spot. It couldn't be… No, I had truly hoped that the attack had been a one off event. I was praying I'd never see those robes ever again.

"Oi Aer!" I jumped, looking around to see it was Luther who had called me. "Heading to bed? Or can I get you the usual?"

"No thanks Luther, it's been a long night," I called back over the din, trying my hardest to keep my voice level. There was a moan of disappointment and some of the other patrons called me over to join them for just one mug. But I steadfastly decline and disappeared up the stairs as quickly as possible. I had the creepiest feeling that the robed man's eyes were following me the whole way.

The moment I was in the room, I locked the door and pushed the dresser against it. I pulled out my sword, ready to be used if need be. I couldn't sit still though, I was pacing up and down, heart in my ears. My hands were tingling again, trembling ever so slightly. Finally I stood in the middle of the room. I didn't want to be in a corner if, by some tiny chance, he got in. I waited, the seconds ticking by. But the seconds crawled into minutes, which changed to hours. The sunlight began to creep in across the room as dawn broke. There was still nothing.

Finally, I allowed myself to sink into the mattress, one hand still gripping the sword tightly. Perhaps it was a coincidence... No, I hadn't seen anyone else in the Imperial City wearing robes like those. It had to have been the same person, I was sure. Somehow, I fell into a restless sleep.

When I awoke, it had to be nearly noon. I immediately looked at the door. The dresser was still in place. I checked the lock. Still locked. No one had come in whilst I slept.

Or at least I thought so, until I turned around and saw something that had definitely not been there when I fell asleep.

Sitting on the end table beside the bed, was a long, thin package with a note sitting neatly on top. I took shaky steps across the room, carefully taking the note in my finger tips, as though it might explode at the slightest touch. The message was short:

_Just in case_

[O]

It was a relief to be out of Luther Broad's and the idea of getting away from the Imperial City was more appealing than ever before. The package sat in the bottom of my pack, unopened. I had the urge to take it and throw it in the lake, yet something compelled me to keep it. Whether or not the robed man had left it, I didn't know. But whoever the mysterious person was, they could clearly pass through walls somehow and I was praying that whoever they were, they were on my side.

But I tried to keep my mind off of such a thought and focused it on my current mission. That being to locate the Mythic Dawn and retrieve the Amulet of Kings. And to do that, I had to locate the cult's secret that would reveal itself at noon in the palace gardens.

Green Emperor Way was more of a graveyard than a garden, with the marble headstones lined up side by side. Statues stood amongst them, commemorating notable figures in history. If I hadn't been looking for the Mythic Dawn, I would have taken more time to investigate them. But here I was, prowling amongst the tomb stones looking for any sign of the cult.

_Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun._

That had been the secret message in the Commentaries, but what exactly was hidden here? It couldn't be the shrine itself. There was no way even the Mythic Dawn could get away with concealing the heart of their operations here. There had been their bunker of sorts in the sewers, but it was no shrine. No, their hideout was likely out in the wilds and the only way to find it was hidden somewhere in the gardens.

I heard a bell tower ringing over head. It was midday. Yet nothing seemed to change and I began to wonder if Tar-Meena and I really had found the right answer in the Commentaries. But it had to be. We hadn't found any other messages in the texts.

I was walking past a mausoleum when I spotted it. There, in the wall, was a glowing red map of Cyrodiil, accompanied by the mark of the Mythic Dawn. And marked there, was a star. The location of the shrine.

I pulled out my map and held it up to the glowing mark. I pulled out a stick of charcoal and hastily marked the location on my own map. Lake Arrius, north of Cheydinhal. Maybe, two or three days travel from the Imperial City. I grinned, stuffing the map back into my pack and heading towards the city gates.

I was finally getting somewhere.

[O]

I stepped forwards into the flickering torch light when a red clad figure approached.

"Dawn is breaking," he muttered.

"Greet the new day," I replied.

"Greetings sister. The hour is late, but the Master is still in need of willing hands. You may pass into the Shrine. Harrow will take you to the Master for your initiation into Lord Dagon's service," he said.

Much like in the sewers, I remained surprisingly level headed the whole time in spite of myself. "Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near."

I didn't like the purr in his voice as he said cleansing, but I stood back as he unlocked the small wooden door behind him. I stepped inside and was plunged into darkness as the door shut behind me. I moved deeper into the passage, towards the flickering light of another torch where I was met by a dunmer.

"I am Harrow, warden of the shrine of Dagon. By following the Path of Dawn hidden in the writings of the master, Mankar Camoran, you have earned a place amongst the Chosen. You have arrived at an opportune time. You may have the honour of being initiated into the order by the Master himself."

So Mankar Camoran was here in person. And alive no less. It seemed that even four hundred years wouldn't stop a lunatic.

"As a member of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided from the Master's Bounty. Give me your possessions and put on this initiate's robe."

I knew I should have played along longer. Done as I was told to get close enough to snatch the Amulet and escape. But something reckless overcame me.

"I don't think so," I said defiantly, crossing my arms. Harrow's eyes widened, then his brow furrowed.

"What? I must warn you, no one leaves this place who does not bind themselves to Lord Dagon's service," he growled. "This is your last warning."

"I'm not here to join your little cult," I hissed, reaching for my dagger.

"Then you have come here to die."

I didn't give him the chance to act or yell for help. I slapped one hand over his mouth, the other hand wielding the dagger and slashing open his throat. Harrow slumped against the wall, dead.

I listened hard though no one seemed to have heard at all. I checked the corpse and found a key labelled Shrine of Dagon. I pocketed it and tucked the body out of sight into a small crevice in the wall before proceeding. I had no idea how long it would be before the body was found and the alarm was raised to the infiltration. But for now, I had to focus on finding the Amulet of Kings without being seen.

I clung to the shadows, ducking out of sight as a Mythic Dawn agent passed by. I spotted a side passage and made my way forwards. There was no one there but I knew better than to let my guard down. I was in the heart of the enemy right now and one wrong move could spell death. I found a small wooden door that wouldn't open. I pulled out Harrow's key and placed it in the lock. There was a click and it opened, allowing me entrance.

I emerged into a large chamber. In the centre of the room were a platform and a statue of what could only be Mehrunes Dagon.

A monumental beast, he wielded four arms and had a monstrous face, complete with huge fangs and glowing red eyes. A crowd of red robed figures stood before the platform, looking up at its occupants. One was a woman in the same blood red robes, but the man, an altmer was dressed in a royal shade of blue.

He addressed the crowd, speaking of the Dragon Throne, the Amulet of Kings and the time of Cleansing. I didn't pay him much attention, just pictured how nicely he would wear his own blood.

I crept further along the walkway I had found myself on, closer to Mankar Camoran. And as I drew closer, I spied a glowing red gem hanging around his neck.

The Amulet of Kings.

I pulled out my bow. If I killed Camoran now, I could snatch the Amulet and take down the key figure in the Mythic Dawn. Like two birds with one stone. There were so many risks with so many of the Mythic Dawn gathered in one place, but perhaps the death of their Master would shake them enough I could grab the Amulet and make my escape.

I loaded an arrow into place and aimed it for Camoran's head. I said a silent prayer as I released it. But just as I loosed it, the woman spotted me.

She leapt in front of Camoran, taking the arrow straight through her breast and falling to the ground. There was a horrified silence. All eyes were fixed on me and chaos ensued. Flashes of light erupted in my direction as I rolled out of the way and fired arrows into the sea of red.

Several fell before they could don their armour but many were racing up the stairs towards me.

A roar caught my attention and I looked around just in time to see Camoran disappear into a flash of fire. He was gone and he took the Amulet with him. I had missed my chance. The Amulet was gone!

I shot one last arrow blindly, then leapt down onto the platform, rolling across the ground upon landing. An argonian lay on a stone altar before Mehrunes Dagon. The legs of the statue were beginning to crack and I ran forwards, hacking away his binds and dragging him away just in time as the statue crumbled.

"What's going on?" The argonian muttered fearfully. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"No time to explain right now!" I said. A bolt of lightning missed us by inches as the Mythic Dawn agents began to run towards us. "We need to leave!" But as I said this, something caught my eye. Lying on the dais where Camoran had been standing lay a large book with a symbol emblazed upon it. The same symbol that had marked the Commentaries. The Mysterium Xarxes.

I bolted, grabbing the book and shoving it roughly into my pack. "Let's go! Now!" But they were upon us again. I drew my sword, hacking and slashing randomly as the argonian hurled spells at the enemy as I tried to figure out an escape route. I spotted a passage up on the walkway and I knew it was our best shot. I yelled to the argonian and we ran, the Mythic Dawn pursuing us as we went. By now though, they were dwindling and we cut down the last few in the narrow corridor.

"Stay close," I panted as I took the lead. "I don't doubt there's more in here." The argonian didn't argue.

We pressed on, hoping to find an escape. As I suspected, more agents appeared in our path. Apparently the fighting in the main chamber hadn't been heard, as they were caught unawares and killing them was easy. When we finally emerged into a familiar passage, I felt my heart leap and I pressed harder than ever, even though my legs were screaming for rest.

We burst into the entrance hall, cutting down the gate keeper before he could react then pelted full speed out of the caverns and into the fresh mountain air. I stumbled towards the edge of the lake and stuck my head right in, relieved at the cold sensation against my sweaty face and parched throat.

I pulled my head out again and lay on my back, shivering from the adrenaline rush. I was alive. I had the Mysterium Xarxes and had killed a lot of Mythic Dawn agents. I would have normally counted it as a great success, if not for the horrible failure of my primary objective. The Amulet of Kings was still in Mankar Camoran's hands, wherever he was right now.

I took a deep shuddering breath at the thought of returning to Cloud Ruler empty handed.

I had failed. I had sworn to recover the Amulet and I had failed entirely.

[O]

I trudged up to the Temple gates, which opened for me. I mounted the stairs, exhausted and weary after the long journey back. The argonian I saved was a priest of Arkay and was to be sacrificed in the initiation. I was concerned he wouldn't make it back to his home safely, seeing as he was completely unarmed and wounded from the battle to escape the Mythic Dawn's clutches, but he assured me he was fine and departed.

Personally, I had been looking for an excuse to further delay returning to Cloud Ruler. I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing everyone with my failure. At least Tar-Meena was happy to have the books, though she didn't ask about what had happened. Official business, she had said.

I was crossing the courtyard when I was intercepted by Jauffre.

"You're back," he noted, seemingly relieved though he soon noticed my despondent expression. "Have you recovered the Amulet of Kings?" I shook my head slowly. "Please tell me you have some good news!"

"I'm not sure. Maybe... I got the Mysterium Xarxes."

It seemed good enough for Jauffre. "Good, you should take it to Martin. He's hardly taken the time to sleep since you left."

"Really?" My heart lifted slightly. It was strangely nice to know someone worried about me enough.

"Yes. He's in the great hall, reading. It seems to be all he does really," he noted with a slight chuckle. I dismissed myself and headed for the main hall, nodding at the Blade guarding the door.

I hadn't had time to explore the temple before now and it was my first time in the great hall. I noticed the countless swords hanging from the walls. I spotted a familiar blade, the one that had belonged to Captain Renault. The sword I had used in the tunnels weeks ago. It seemed like a very long time ago now.

At the end of the hall was a huge fireplace, roaring with warmth and life. Tables and benches lined the room and seated at one was Martin, nose buried in a book. I spotted Baurus standing not far behind. I crept forwards, Martin not even hearing me coming. I peered at the cover of the book. It was about the Amulet of Kings, which caused another blow of shame to my conscious. I looked up.

"Hi there." Martin jumped and gave me a disapproving look whilst Baurus sniggered.

"You're back," the imperial noted, relief touching his voice as he smiled lightly and set his book aside. "I told Jauffre not to worry."

"Sure you did, Mr 'Barely took the time to sleep since I left'." Baurus had a harder time biting back a laugh, though Martin just rolled his eyes.

"You're using humour to hide bad news." I blinked, cocking my head to one side. "I can see it in your eyes, my friend. I've seen it plenty of times during my time as a priest. You failed to retrieve the Amulet."

I straightened up, looking at the floor. I'd have preferred it if he sounded angry, I could have taken that. If he had shouted at me, I could have handled it. But that note of disappointment just made me feel even worse.

"Yeah... Sorry about that."

"So long as you are safe, it does not matter," Martin assured me kindly, patting my shoulder. "You went through a great deal of peril, I am sure."

"Well not entirely for nothing I hope. I found this." I pulled out the Mysterium Xarxes.

"By the Nine!" Martin yelled, leaping to his feet and snatching the book out of my hands. "Such a thing is even dangerous to handle!"

I yelped, jumping back at the sudden intensity radiating off of him, though he quickly recomposed himself. "Forgive me Aerrun. You were right to bring it to me, but I'd best be the only one to handle it. I have some ways of protecting myself from its evil power." I frowned, looking down at the book. What could be all that evil about it? I hadn't felt anything when handling the book, even when I first recovered it.

"Can it be used to find the Amulet of Kings?" I asked as Martin took his seat again.

"I don't know," he murmured. "Perhaps. I will need time to study it."

He carefully opened the book, as though afraid it might bite if he opened it otherwise and I knew there was no point trying to speak to him any further on the matter.

So I turned to Baurus as another of the Blades arrived to take their shift guarding Martin.

"Any trouble getting back?" I asked as he walked over to me.

"No, thank Talos," he laughed in spite of the news of the Amulet. "I never got the chance to thank you for your help in the Imperial City. Come on, let me show you some moves. No one outside of the Blades knows them, so you'll have an advantage." He took me by the arm and we bade farewell to Martin before departing for the courtyard.

**To Be Continued...**


	6. I Spy

It had been a week since I had failed to retrieve the Amulet of Kings and Martin had made very little progress with the Mysterium Xarxes.

It was frustrating, knowing that the key to getting the Amulet back was right there and refusing to yield its secrets. But Jauffre put me to work quickly, having me train with Jena and Baurus on a regular basis to brush up on my martial skills. I realised rather quickly that my skill with a sword was mediocre at best when compared to the Blades, though my marksmanship and work with a dagger were much more proficient in comparison.

So I trained hard, trying to bring my skills up to scratch, away from the hacking and slashing method I had been using so often. It also proved a welcome distraction from dwelling over my failure at the shrine.

Thankfully, both Baurus and Jena proved to be good teachers and I made quick progress. And, on occasion, Martin would join us in polishing up on his skills. He was even worse than me and sometimes our sparring matches devolved into little more than childish play after a while. It was nice to relieve the tension every little once in a while, a sentiment that seemed to be mutual throughout the temple.

But today I had been called over by Cyrus and told that Jauffre had work for me that was to be considered of highest priority. So I said farewell to my friends and went to find the Grandmaster.

I slipped into the library quietly, just as Captain Steffan passed me to exit into the courtyard and Jauffre rubbed his forehead, as though to ward away an oncoming headache. He did that a lot these days and I felt a pang of guilt.

"You needed to see me Grandmaster?" Jauffre looked up.

"Ah, there you are. Cyrus sent you? Excellent. I've received reports of spies in Bruma – I want you to find them, discover what their motives are and eliminate them. Can you do this?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Go speak to Captain Steffan, he can tell you more."

I bowed politely and departed for the armoury. The armour of the Blades stood neatly in place on their racks, gleaming and ready for battle, but I went for my pack and pulled out my leathers. The heavy steel of the Blades didn't agree with me in the slightest. Too heavy, too noisy for my tastes and it often led me back to wondering what exactly I was before I woke up in the prison. It was something I pondered on most in the evenings, willing to remember something. Sometimes the name of a city captured my attention and I tried to envision it in my head, only for it to slip away from me.

But now was hardly the time to try and retrieve memories. Grabbing my weapons, I headed for the courtyard to look for Steffan.

I had never actually spoken to the Captain outside of a polite good morning, but from my observations I gathered that in normal circumstances, he was the one who gave all the orders around here. So when I found him out on the battlements looking rather ruffled, I surmised that he wasn't used to taking orders rather than giving them.

"Captain?" He looked around, eyebrows raised. "Grandmaster Jauffre sent me to speak to you about the spies."

"I see. We have received word from Bruma that strangers have been seen on the roads. We suspect the enemy are trying to gain information on our defences. We see them at the rune stone around dusk. They aren't too wood crafty but Grandmaster Jauffre won't let the rest of us range too far from the walls."

"Why?" I asked, frowning.

"He wants us all on hand to defend the temple at all costs. But it seems you have been given to freedom to strike back at the enemy that we all crave! Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll let them know just how you feel about them." Steffan just chuckled and gave me a short nod as I turned to leave.

I wasn't sure why Jauffre gave me so much freedom, whereas every other Blade had to remain in Cloud Ruler. I was permitted to come and go as I pleased, even if it was just a saunter down into Bruma to enjoy a night with my fellow nords.

Perhaps it was because I was the one Emperor Uriel sent to him. Or perhaps, as I had been in Kvatch, I was new and I was expendable. If anything happened to me it didn't matter much. Better me than one of the more seasoned Blades.

The thought made my heart ache.

[O]

I ventured into Bruma to ask around about the spies. I had checked around the rune stone but there was no trace of anyone there and there was no point in sitting around and hoping someone would turn up, so the city was a better option.

The beggars, I realised, were perhaps the best source of information with the right incentives (my coin purse felt somewhat lighter by noon). They were able to tell me what other people might miss and I learnt that a stranger had been seen in Jearl's home, a person no one had ever seen before. And Jearl hadn't been seen around the city lately either. It was a good place to start.

Jearl's house was located in a more rundown area of Bruma, with squat houses and lacking the same strong build of the other buildings in town. There was only one guard on patrol and after watching him for a couple of hours, I calculated the amount of time I'd have to get into the house and dig around before he came back. As for Jearl, it seemed she wasn't in and neither was her friend.

So I lurked just out of sight until the guard rounded the corner before creeping forwards. There was no one around and I had maybe ten minutes before the guard came back. I pulled out a lock pick and slid it into the lock. I felt like this was an old rhythm, something I had done a million times before. There was a rush of excitement as each tumbler clicked into place and the door opened slowly. I peered in through the crack between the door and the frame. It was empty.

Slipping inside, I shut the door behind me and stepped inside. There was only one room and it smelt strongly of sour milk and wet dogs. There was only one bed, a table set up for two people and a rickety cabinet. Nothing particularly remarkable or out of the ordinary. But then again, was there ever?

I opened the cabinet and searched under the bed, finding nothing. I was starting to wonder if I had the right house when I tripped over the rug. Grumbling, I pushed myself onto my knees when I spotted it. The rug had pulled up when I tripped and revealed a trap door.

"Very clever Jearl," I murmured, smirking. I tugged on the heavy iron ring, trying to pull it up but it was locked. I pulled out a lock pick but, much to my frustration, it broke. As did the next five. This was one lock that refused to break. I went to try again, when the door opened.

I froze in place as two women stood in the threshold, staring at me as though they had been stupefied. One was a redguard, the other a bosmer and both very angry. They stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. This action told me I was on the right track. After all, why not call the guards? But there were two of them and one of me, so I had quite the disadvantage right now.

"Now what do we have here? A thief?" The redguard hissed.

"Or perhaps an Imperial agent?" The bosmer added. Weapons appeared out of nowhere. The bosmer leapt forward and her dagger caught my cheek, causing pain to explode in my face as I pulled away, rolling across the floor and leaping to my feet.

I pulled out my sword, running through the bosmer before she could try again. Her eyes bulged and she flopped like a fish. I threw the corpse to the ground and turned to the redguard just as she raised a fist, yellow light engulfing her.

"For Lord Dagon!" She cried as her armour appeared and she raised a daedric mace. I lunged forwards and she blocked the blow with her sword. But I pivoted, pulling out my dagger from my boot. I twisted and stabbed the blade right into the chink in her armour. She let out a scream of pain and I quickly stabbed through her neck with my sword, silencing her.

My face was stinging and I place a hand to my cheek, a faint glow and unusual sensation telling me that the skin was repairing.

I was checking the redguard's pockets when the guard burst into the room.

"Murder!" He cried, pointing at me accusingly. "You've broken the law, criminal scum-!"

I ignored him and pulled a small key out of the redguard's pocket. It looked like it might fit the lock in the trap door. The guard continued to rave, trying to make his arresting me clear, though I simply crossed to the trapdoor and placed the key into the lock. There was a satisfying click and I pulled it open. It was pitch black and there was no telling what could be down there.

Finally, when the guard stomped over and grabbed one of my wrists, I turned to him. "I'm here on behalf of Cloud Ruler Temple. These two were spies. I was instructed by Jauffre to find and eliminate them, as well as locate their orders."

"W-what? Jearl was the spy?!" He spluttered, his grip slackening and I tugged myself free and gave him a point blank look.

"Yes. And now I need to find out why she and her friend were here. Report to your Captain and let him know what happened. I don't need any other guards or civilians bothering me."

"O-of course ma'am. I'll inform the Captain right away!" He saluted and exited the house as I climbed down the ladder into the basement.

I lit a magelight (a useful little spell I had found in one of the library books) and looked around. There was another bed down here as well as a cabinet and table. Sat on top of the cabinet was an eerily familiar purple tome and hanging from the walls were banners of the Mythic Dawn.

But, most interestingly, was a scroll on the table.

Getting the feeling this was what I was looking for, I picked it up and broke the wax seal. I read it quickly:

_Jearl,_

_The Master was pleased to hear of your activities outside of Chorrol. The more gates we open, the closer we are to the glorious Cleansing._

_The Master has chosen you and Saveri for a most crucial mission, a sign of your advancement in the ranks of the Chosen. We have learned that the Septim heir has gone to ground at Cloud Ruler Temple, lair of the accursed Blades. The Master has made its destruction a priority, and Lord Dagon has committed whatever resources are required._

_Pending your report on the Septim's activities at Cloud Ruler Temple, and your assessment of the temple's defences and possible escape routes, we plan to open a Great Gate in the open ground before Bruma as soon as possible._

_Remember: three lesser gates represent only the preliminary stages of Great Gate deployment. Do not, in anyway compromise your cover in defence of these gates. New ones can be quickly and easily reopened. And once the Great Gate is open, Bruma's fall is assured. Cloud Ruler Temple cannot stand long after that and the Septim will be caught like a rat in a trap._

_We would also welcome any further information you can offer concerning the Imperial Agent who rescued Martin from Kvatch, but again, we caution you… Do not risk confrontation. This individual is not to be trifled with._

_The Dawn is Breaking,_

_Ruma Camoran._

[O]

I raced back to Cloud Ruler, ignoring the strange looks I got from passers-by as I ran past. I barely noticed the faint trail I blood I left behind from my weapons.

When I reached the gates of the temple, I had a stitch in my chest and I doubled over, forcing oxygen into my lungs as the gates opened. I jogged up the steps where I was met by Jena but I ignored her, heading for the library where, much to my relief, I found Jauffre. He was speaking to Achille but upon my approach, he dropped the subject, brushing him off quickly.

"Ah, Aerrun you're back. Do you have any information on the spies?"

I couldn't speak, my mouth and throat being drier than the deserts of Hammerfell, so I pulled out the scroll and thrust it into his hands. Achille was kind enough to hand me a mug of water as Jauffre read the orders.

"Excellent work Aerrun, I knew I could count on you. The gods did not idly choose you as their agent, whatever you might think." He eyed me knowingly as he added that last part and I frowned slightly at the implication. "But it is clear that Mankar Camoran will soon bring his power to bear against Bruma. I will warn the Countess of the danger – you have done well. Go and rest for now, I am sure the others will want to hear of your slaying of the enemy at some point."

"But how did you-?!" He pointed at my waist and I looked down to see the drying blood on the blade of my sword. It was still dripping slightly.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. I hope you did not make too much trouble on your excursion?"

"Well… I nearly got arrested for murder. But when I said they were spies and that you sent me, the guard dropped it." Jauffre rolled his eyes and I headed for the armoury to change.

When I entered the Great Hall, I spotted Martin at his usual table and pouring over another book as Baurus leant against a nearby beam. Neither of them seemed to hear me approach and it felt like too good an opportunity for a little revenge. I crept up and grabbed the redguard from behind.

He let out a yell and pulled out his sword, which I ducked and tackled him around the waist, pinning him with my knees. There was yelling and shouting around the room, but I just looked at the angry and shocked expression on Baurus' face.

"I win," I taunted, smirking down at him.

"Why you little-!"

"Aerrun." I looked up and saw that Baurus wasn't the only one taken by surprise. Martin was standing over us, hands on his hips and clearly trying not to look too amused with our antics. He had dropped his book and his notes had scattered across the floor. Belisarius had dropped a bowl of stew all Cyrus (who was currently howling in pain), Pelagius and Steffan were shaking their heads in exasperation and Caroline looked as though she had had a heart attack.

"As much as we all like to play tricks on Baurus, perhaps it would be best not to do so in a manner that would have us all believe we were under attack."

"Speak for yourself!" Baurus grunted. "I _am_ under attack!"

"You should have considered that before you snuck up on me in the kitchen the other day!" I retorted.

"Well you shouldn't have been sneaking around, looking for sweet rolls!"

"Oh and what were you looking for, smart arse? Not Jauffre's private reserves of Argonian Brandy, I hope!"

"Milk drinker!"

"Elf ears!"

"Arkay's arse crack!"

"Ysgramor's armpit!"

"Children." We winced and looked up to see Jena towering over us and I detected the impending doom aura that she always radiated when she was ready to kill. "Aerrun, let Baurus up. Now."

I scrambled to my feet and Baurus got to his feet slowly, grumbling and brushing himself down. He shot me a glare, which I returned until I felt a fresh wave of doom from Jena. I looked around to see everyone looking over at the fiasco; Jauffre had entered the room to see what the fuss was about and was looking ready to throw himself from the battlements at this point. Pelagius was gathering Martin's notes from the ground whilst the heir himself was watching with undeniable amusement.

I quickly assessed my position. There was a straight line of fire from where I was standing out into the courtyard. If I ran, I could make it. But…  
>I spotted the rafters and Baurus' words came back to me.<p>

_You must be an experienced acrobat, am I right?_

Something inside of my yearned for it and I knew I could pull it off. It was all about timing.

"I hope you're not thinking of running, Aerrun," Jena said sharply.

"No ma'am… I prefer climbing." I darted past her and scrambled up into the rafters, leaping from beam to beam towards the door.

"Aerrun, you get back here this instant!" Jena shrieked as I touched the ground just before the doors. I ran out into the night, across the courtyard and along the battlements before Jena could stop me.

I came to a spot along the walls with a high snow drift and I knew I could use it to land. I had done it before and I could easily climb back up the walls too. I made to jump only to have someone grab my by the scruff of my neck.

"Ow! Steffan you arse, do I look like a Khajiit kitten to you?!" I hissed, flailing in an attempt to free myself from the Imperial's grip.

"Well with the way you move, you do seem to possess some rather feline qualities," he chuckled, setting me down. I readjusted my shirt, scowling slightly as he observed me. "You would really attempt to jump from that height?"

"I've done it before," I said, shrugging.

"Have you? I don't recall you ever doing so. You haven't been sneaking out, have you?" He eyed me sternly and I rolled my eyes.

"No, I-" I stopped. That was right. I had never done anything like that here at Cloud Ruler. So where had I done it?

"Aerrun-"

"I… Where was it…? Snow… Lots of snow, high walls." I fisted my hands into my hair, trying to capture the memory before it escaped. Grey stone, blanketed in white snow. Icicles were a frequent danger. A palace looming over the landscape. Where was it?!

Not Bruma, nowhere in Cyrodiil. North. The Sea of Ghosts. Skyrim. The words flashed in my eyes in rapid succession.

"Jena!" The voice was distant and faint, as was the clanking of metal as someone sprinted over. I became aware of the world spinning around me as I fell. I was caught before I hit the ground, but it felt distant, detached. Like I wasn't me. The last thing I recalled before blacking out was one word:

Windhelm.

[O]

"Aerrun, you mustn't!"

"Don't be such a milk drinker, Salhei," I teased as I climbed to the top of the wall. To my left was the bridge and to my right was a perilous drop into the icy river before. One misstep would lead to certain death – if the fall didn't kill you, the cold would. But I had done this so many times before, it was a breeze.

Unfortunately, Salhei didn't agree.

I walked along the wall, minding the icy patches as I went. I reached the end and turned back to walk towards my friend. I could see, even from here, his tail flicking back and forth in worry. So I did something reckless. I charged forwards and jumped. I heard Salhei shout a curse word as I planted my hands on the stone, pushing up and sailing through the air over Salhei's head.

And for a second, I was flying, the wind rushing through my hair. Then I was falling and I landed in the snowdrift next to the wall, just behind him. The white powder erupted into a cold cloud around me. I straightened up, turning back to the young argonian (who was dusted in white) and took a low bow as he looked at me in awe.

"Aerrun, you shouldn't have done that," he said forcefully, trying to erase the impressed look on his face to be replaced by a more serious one as he shook the snow from himself. "You could have fallen."

"But I didn't," I said exasperatedly.

"Aerrun Radlyn!" I jumped just as I turned to see a very familiar Dunmer storming over and I could tell he was furious.

"Quick, let's run!" But he was upon us before we could move.

"How many times have you been told child?" My father hissed. "How many times have I told you, over and over! No climbing the walls! If you fall, no healer will be able to put you back together! And you Salhei, I would have expected you to know better."

"It was my fault papa," I squeaked. "I was the one climbing the wall. Salhei said I shouldn't, but I didn't listen."

"Well perhaps you should in future," he growled, setting us both down. "Now, it is time to go home. Your mother is nearly finished making dinner."

"Yes papa. Bye Salhei."

[O]

I bolted upwards, breathing hard and sweat running down my face. I was in the barracks of Cloud Ruler, which confused me. Hadn't I been out in the courtyard a moment ago?

"Aerrun!" I looked up and saw it was Martin. He brushed my hair off of my forehead and resting his hand there, brow furrowed with worry. "Are you alright? How do you feel?"

"I-" I paused, not sure if I was alright. The memory, as small and insignificant as it was, was still a memory. A small fragment of my past had come back to me and at the most unexpected moment. "I don't know..."

My response seemed to only worry him further as he removed his palm from my forehead and he reached behind him. He gave me a mug of mead, though it was one of the weakest varieties that Cloud Ruler had to offer. I could tell purely from the lack of strong aroma.

"It should help calm your nerves a little. Steffan said you suddenly collapsed up on the battlements," he said softly as I took a sip of the drink. It was warm and as it hit the bottom of my stomach, I felt a pleasantly warm sensation spread through my body. Skjorta, a nord woman in Bruma who I had become good friends with, had told me how a good mug of ale or five could really help a nord unwind and now I could appreciate what she meant.

"I don't know why," I muttered. "I was just-"

"About to jump from the battlements." I looked up, surprised to see the fierce fire burning in those blue eyes. "Why? What would possess you to do such a stupid thing? Aerrun, if something's wrong, you can tell me."

I felt the slight flush in my face worsen at the thought of being treated like a child. I tried to hide it by taking another sip of mead, but Martin wasn't letting the topic drop. So I sighed, setting the mug to one side for now.

"I'd done it before, just not here... When I was a little girl, living in Windhelm."

"What?" The seriousness dropped from his face, surprise replacing it and he moved to sit beside me properly. "You remembered something?"

"It was nothing important. Just a fragment." I could see his curiosity though he was refraining from asking.

I sighed and tried to bring all the details back to the forefront of my mind. "I was a child, maybe about seven years of age. I was living in Windhelm, back in Skyrim with my mother and father. I was climbing the walls along the bridge even though my friend told me I shouldn't. My father came over and told us off. Said it wasn't safe."

"Your father sounds like a smart man," Martin remarked with a chuckle. "What was he like?"

"He was a Dunmer… His name was…" I wracked my brain and it floated out of the murky depths. "Erhan Radlyn."

As though by magic, he came into sharp relief when the name came back to me. A dunmer with jet black hair that was cropped just below his jaw. His eyes were a dark shade of scarlet that could be frightening to those who did not know him, yet they were kind when he wasn't angry. His facial features were strong and looked as though they were chiselled by a master craftsman. His skin was dark grey, like ashes from a fire and he was strongly built.

I couldn't recall what he did or what he had been like as a father, but there was a sense of warmth and comfort when I thought about him. Yet also, infinite sadness.

"A dunmer? Well that explains how you can sneak around so well… And how you can tolerate Belisarius' stew…"

Of course, that stuff was so hot I reckoned even a dragon could struggle to eat it. Yet I had an easier time than the other Blades. Some even left it in the snow for a good ten minutes to cool it and complain it was too hot. Perhaps Belisarius added flame salts to it…

"You also mentioned a friend. What was their name?"

"Salhei. An argonian. We were best friends growing up, I think we still are," I replied promptly.

Again, the image came into my head clearly when I said his name. A small argonian boy with black scales, highlighted scales of bright gold. His eyes, a leafy green colour, were timid and I vaguely recalled him being somewhat cowardly in my youth. So why was there that feeling of security when I thought of him? And why the strange sense of loss?

I suddenly didn't want to talk about the memory anymore. It suddenly felt private and I should keep it to myself. Like I had made a mistake in revealing any of it.

"Aerrun, are you okay?" I became aware of the wet moisture in my eyes that dripped onto my cheek. Why was I crying? Martin dabbed his sleeve to my face gently, frowning.

"…Martin, don't tell anyone," I said quietly, looking down at my hands, one finger tracing the scar on my thumb.

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone about this memory. Don't tell anyone that it came back. Please, just don't!" The urgency rose in my voice, which seemed to grow thicker as I leant closer, desperate and I could see a look of alarm on Martin's face at my sudden change in disposition. "Promise you won't!"

"Okay Aerrun, okay," Martin said, patting my head and trying to calm me down. "I promise, as a Priest of Akatosh, not to tell anyone about your memory."

I sat back on the bed roll, relief flooding my system as I wiped my eyes on my sleeves.

"Thank you." I shuddered slightly, wondering why I was getting so worked up over anyone else knowing about the memory. But I just knew that I shouldn't have said anything and that in future, I had to keep my mouth shut.

Before either of us could speak again, there was a yell from the doorway.

"Aer! Hey Jen, she's okay!"

We both looked up to see Baurus striding over and drop to the floor by the bedroll, Jena not too far behind. Both looked concerned, but very relieved and I felt like I might just cry again.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. It seemed he had silently forgiven me for my surprise attack earlier. For now.

"I'm fine Baurus. Just… Just tired." It wasn't a lie. I felt exhausted – either from my encounter with the spies or the sudden emotional strain of the memory, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I wanted to just go to sleep and not wake up for a long time.

"In that case, perhaps you'd best get some rest," Jena said gently. "It's been a long day, after all."

I didn't try to argue, I just laid on my side and listened to the three of them as they left, Martin pausing to extinguish the candles so the room was pitch black. And I lay there, pulling the sheet over my head as I tried to make sense of it all. Nothing seemed to make sense in my head right now.

I remembered my father and my best friend… So why did it hurt so much to remember them? What could have happened? And why did it feel like I was breaking a taboo by telling Martin about them?

I cast my mind back over the past months, trying to look for some kind of clue when Skingrad came to mind. The night Martin and I fled at the advice of the mysterious note. There had been no sign of the note's sender and no indication to its purpose since then. But I remembered, in the bar of the Two Sister's Lodge, there had been a group of strangers in cloaks and hoods. One of them an argonian.

Could Salhei have been there that night? Had it been him in the bar? Had he sent the note?

I felt a streak of excitement all of a sudden. If Salhei was in Cyrodiil, perhaps he knew what had happened to me before I woke up in the Imperial Prison. If anyone could tell me about myself, it was him.

I had to find him and find out the truth behind my past, but my body felt heavy all of a sudden and my head was foggy. It shouldn't have happened, the mead hadn't been that strong. Had Martin put something in the drink or was it just the exhaustion?

I couldn't work it out before passing out.

[O]

I awoke in a cold sweat. I realised it was still dark and I was still very much alone. How long had I been asleep? Had it only been minutes? Hours? I couldn't tell, there was no measure of time in here.

My sleep had been haunted by shadowy figures clad in black, clutching silver daggers and my palms tingled horribly at the thought. Mehrunes Dagon had been there too, scarlet eyes burning through me, watching me and waiting to strike, ready to devour me whole.

I shivered, but not because of the cold.

I pulled my pack closer to me and reached inside to find my water skin, my throat dry and in need of relief. As I dug through for it, I spotted something that I had quite forgotten about and I wished I could forget it again.

The long thin package that had been left in my room at Luther Broad's. The note was still attached to it.

_Just in case._

I don't know why I took it with me. I was still positive that the man in the boarding house was the same man who attacked me on the Orange Road several months ago. I hadn't given it much thought, given everything that had happened since, but now I had a quiet moment to think about it and now it piqued my curiosity.

With a slight tremble in my fingers, I tugged on the brown paper, hesitant to pull it open.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer."

I jumped violently, dropping the package to the floor where it landed with a surprisingly heavy thump. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my sword from beside my bedroll and pointing it at the speaker. The moment I laid eyes on him, my blood went cold.

The robed man from Luther Broad's was sitting beside my bedroll, hands folded in his lap as he looked up at me.

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" I snapped, glaring at the man.

"Now now sister, is that anyway to greet an old friend?" He said almost playfully, as though this were a common occurrence as he stood up. "Surely given the state of things within the family, you would know better than to point a weapon at me?"

"Who are you?" I snapped, my grip on the sword handle tightening. "What do you want from me?"

"Dearest sister, what madness claims you? Do you truly not recognise me?"

"If I did, would I be asking? Now I'll ask again, who are you?"

To my surprise, he pulled his hood down and he wore a most bemused expression, perhaps even somewhat worried. He was an imperial, dark haired and eyes as black as night, both of which were fixed on me.

"I am your Speaker, Lucien Lechance. And you, Aerrun." He pointed a long, gloved finger at me. "You are a cold-blooded murderer."

**To be continued…**


	7. Azura's Star

I stood, frozen in place and my sword was still raised, not quite knowing how to respond. My heart was racing, blood rushing to my head. Once again, the dunmer's words returned to me.

_You look frightened. You should have thought about that before you murdered-!_

_You kill a man, serve three days and leave?!_

He had said it even back then, that I had murdered. I had killed someone and that was why I was imprisoned. But I had always assumed it was a mistake, that I hadn't meant to or I had had a good reason for it. I had been framed or was defending myself. I hadn't really killed in cold blood.

So why did I take such little issue when eliminating the Mythic Dawn?

The feeling from the meeting with the Sponsor came back to me; the rush of adrenaline at playing along and acting innocent before striking. The Mythic Dawn agents in the tunnels and sewers beneath the Imperial City, the daedra of Oblivion and Jearl and Saveri in Bruma…

I had killed them all without question, not even feeling a drop of remorse for the act. There had never been a thought of right or wrong to it, I just did it.

I looked at Lucien and saw he was looking around the room quite casually as though I was not pointing a weapon at him or experiencing a horrible inner turmoil.

"How do you know me?" I whispered hoarsely. "You couldn't possibly-"

"Oh but I do, dear, sweet sister. I do know you and better than you seem to realise," he replied softly, standing and walking over to me. I didn't even resist as he took my wrist and took the sword from my hand, tilting my head back with a finger beneath my chin, his gaze fixed on mine; the look in his eyes made something in the pit of my stomach coil tightly. He examined my face closely, though I didn't fight. I didn't feel the impulse to fight back anymore. I felt paralysed, like my blood had turned to ice and left me unable to move. "I can see confusion in your eyes. You truly do not recall… This complicates matters further…"

"What matters?"

"I was to retrieve you, to bring you back to Sanctuary. Back to your family, Aerrun."

"Salhei," I muttered without thought.

"Ah," Lucien laughed, dropping my wrist and returning the sword to me. "So you at least recall the argonian? Yes, Salhei is eagerly anticipating your return, sister. Come, and I can answer all of your questions. I can tell you everything that you have forgotten. If you come with me, you will learn everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

I should have jumped at the opportunity. Should have gladly grabbed the chance to learn who or what I was before all of this began and go back to whatever life I had before. But I didn't.

A dagger in the back had killed the Emperor and there was a good chance that going with Lucien would earn me the same. His voice was not the one I heard on the Orange Road, I had realised. This was not the same man who had tried to kill me, yet it seemed all too strange that someone who happened to know everything about me would suddenly appear to me after my escape from prison.

And someone who was not a Blade and could get into Cloud Ruler, seemingly undetected, could not be trusted. And the robes, they were identical. No, Lucien and my attacker could well be working together. Lucien could lure me away with promises of secrets and they could both murder me.

And then there were my friends here in the temple. Martin, Baurus, Jena, Jauffre… And all of the others. I had sworn to help them no matter what, to help defeat the Mythic Dawn. To secure the Amulet of Kings and see Martin take his rightful place on the Dragon Throne. I had already failed once, I couldn't fail again. I was in too deep, I cared too much and I wanted to be with them all… Over the past few months, the Blades had become my family.

I pulled away from Lucien, shaking my head hard.

"You're wrong. I'm not a murderer," I spat.

Lucien frowned slightly. "No? The Night Mother thinks otherwise. Very well sister, I will leave you be and trust that you shall return home once your business in this place is complete. Until that day, I ask you accept my gift."

I followed his gaze down at the package on the floor and slowly picked it up, not taking my eyes off of Lucien the whole time as I opened the wrappings.

Inside was a dagger. The blade was long, thin and bore cruel, serrated teeth. The handle had a red, leather grip and there was a cruel spike at the base. There was a warm feeling in my palm, as though hand and blade were rejoicing in happiness at their apparent reunion.

"The Blade of Woe," Lucien said calmly as I stared at the weapon. "Your first blade, I recall. I hope you put it to good use until you return home to us, dearest sister. When you are ready, come to Cheydinhal. You will know where to go once you arrive, of this Sithis is certain."

And he vanished, quite literally melting into thin air. I was alone again, standing in the middle of the room when I heard a door opening nearby.

I barely had time to shove the Blade of Woe out of sight when Martin came in, looking ready to retire himself. He looked surprised, then exasperated at the sight of me awake and on my feet.

He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily.

"Honestly Aerrun. You were sleeping for only an hour and already you're up? You need rest," he said sternly, walking over.

I didn't argue as he tucked the sheet around me before baying goodnight and disappearing further up the corridor. The other Blades began to enter not long after, all removing armour as I lay there, pretending to be asleep as I turned it all over in my head. It was a lot of information to take in, yet I had more questions than answers.

Was I truly a murderer? Did Lucien really hold the answers I craved? Was Salhei awaiting me in Cheydinhal? And the Blade of Woe…

The lights went out and everyone fell asleep quickly, the sounds of gentle breathing filling the air. I pulled out the weapon, running my hand down the flat of the blade. It radiated a dark aura that should have been repulsive, yet it wasn't. Could this weapon truly have been mine once?

Needless to say, I did not sleep a wink that night.

[O]

The next morning found me alone on the battlements at daybreak. I had convinced Belisarius to take leave early and I would cover the rest of his shift until Achille arrived. It hadn't been a difficult task and it promised me some peace and quiet. My encounter with Lucien Lachance was still fresh in my mind and I was still trying to consider what he had said.

I killed without mercy when confronted by the Mythic Dawn. Perhaps he was right, maybe I was a cold-blooded murderer. If anything, reflecting on my actions these past months confirmed that.

True, some of those kills were to defend myself, but what of the Mythic Dawn Shrine? I had killed Harrow ruthlessly before he could even act. I could have played along and pretended to be an Initiate after all, but no. I consciously elected to kill him in my defiance. And the agents I had caught unawares, they hadn't had time to realise what was happening when I killed them.

And then there was the crime I had committed that landed me in the Imperial Prison. Just what had happened? Who had I killed? And for what reason?

I felt older all of a sudden and I wondered if Baurus and I really had been fighting like children only yesterday. Now I understand how Jauffre felt as I rubbed my temples, feeling the aching pain begin to build there.

"Aerrun." I looked around to see Captain Steffan.

"Sir!" I stood at attention, hoping he had not seen me caught up in my personal matters more than the guard duty I had taken upon myself. No such luck.

"At ease Blade sister. Is there a problem? You look troubled."

"I'm fine sir, it's nothing." The imperial was not convinced and he moved to stand beside me, watching the sun rising over the mountains and sun creeping over the glittering white snow as the sky was tinted gold and pink. It was a sight to behold.

We didn't speak for a long while, just watched as the sun rose higher into the sky and welcomed the new day. And to think, the Mythic Dawn would want to destroy such beauty.

Once it was a fair height over the city of Bruma, Achille appeared to take his shift of watch and Steffan and I left him to it, walking across the courtyard as the rest of the Blades seemed to be slowly appearing from the barracks.

"Between you and me, Aerrun." Steffan lent closer, a glint in his eyes and a light smile on his face. "I'm quite partial to the Great Hall. The roaring fire and a hot meal are often good for a troubled mind, especially when one is not wearing her boots."

I frowned and looked at my feet to see that they were, indeed, bare. I had been in such a hurry to get out of the stuffy confines of the barracks and away from where I had met Lucien Lachance, I had left without putting any shoes on. I looked away, face reddening lightly.

"There wasn't time. I just… Needed to think."

"I see. Thinking is good, but too much can do more harm than good," he said wisely, patting my shoulder. "Off with you for now. Go have something to eat. You look worse than Grandmaster Jauffre when he is fretting and you are as aware as I how bad that can be."

I managed a weak laugh before doing as I was told and turned towards the Great Hall. I decided I liked Steffan and knew that the Blades had a good leader among them. But I turned my mind from that when I stepped inside, the warmth washing over me like a great wave. My feet were unsurprisingly numb from cold and it was nice to get the feeling back in them. But I decided to head for the kitchens for now. I hadn't had the chance to eat last night and my stomach was making this fact known.

The kitchen was largely empty, except for Belisarius as he brewed up what appeared to be a large vat of his infamous stew and I skirted away from the fire towards the ovens. I fished out one of the bread loaves that were baking and dropped it onto a plate before I could burn my fingers, before rummaging around for whatever else I could find.

Unfortunately, Belisarius was generous in my helping of stew, which I accepted with a pained smile. No one could ever turn him down, even though it meant a mouthful of liquid fire.

I found an apple, some strawberries and I managed to snatch a sweet roll from the larder when the other Blade was looking the other way before I returned to the Great Hall.

Martin was up as well, settling down with the Mysterium Xarxes and the other books.

"Morning."

"Good morning Aerrun. You look awful," he remarked with a furrowed brow. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not a bit," I admitted, sitting down. "Too much to think about to be honest."

"Is it your memory? Did anything else come back?"

Something came all right, but I had no idea what precisely. But I just shook my head, knowing it was unwise to tell Martin too much on the matter. "What about you? How's the work on the Xarxes going?"

"I've managed to translate part of it actually," he said rather cheerfully. "It seems that Mankar Camoran used the Xarxes to create his Paradise. In essence the book is Camoran's Paradise."

"Really?" I glanced at the book. Everyone always spoke of the evil within the Mysterium Xarxes and how they could practically feel it coming from the book when they moved close to it, yet I never sensed the same. It was odd and in truth, we all knew it. But I took Martin's word on it. I knew nothing of the Mythic Dawn could be counted as good, so if the book itself came from Mehrunes Dagon, it certainly had to be evil. "So can it be used to get there?"

"I believe so – it will be difficult as I will have to bind myself to the Xarxes, but it can be done."

"Wait, what?" I leapt to my feet angrily. "You can't be serious? Binding yourself to that thing?!"

"It's only temporary Aerrun," Martin said, trying to reassure me but I glared at the book lying innocently on the desk. "And it is necessary if we are to retrieve the Amulet of Kings."

I didn't like it at all. I didn't trust anything that came from the Mythic Dawn, least of all its master. But I could see from the look in his eyes that his mind would not be changed in the slightest, so I took my seat again, scowling still.

"Moving on… The Xarxes describes a ritual needed to open a portal from the outside. It requires four items, though I have only deciphered the first. The blood of a daedric prince."

"The blood...?"

"Of a daedric prince, yes. It will be difficult, without doubt. In such times, no one wishes to openly associate with the daedra in public, but it is possible you could find one of their shrines. The daedric princes each possess an artifact of power and this artifacts are the essence of the prince that crafted it. If you could find one and bring it here, it could be used in the ritual, though its physical form will be consumed. This should help," he explained, pulling out a dark purple book with cursive silver writing. He passed it over to me and I examined the cover.

_Modern Heretics_

It was relatively plain compared to the Commentaries, but when I flicked it open I found it far easier to read that the excessively grand wording of the Commentaries.

"You should find it useful in your search."

"You know… For a priest, you sure know a lot about daedra…"

This topic had been sensitive the last time I asked Martin about it. He had evaded the question entirely before changing the subject and there was no guarantee he'd speak about it now.

"I haven't always been a priest. In my youth, I followed a different path. Let's just say I know a bit more about the seductive powers of daedric magic than I care to admit. Let's leave it at that."

I frowned slightly but didn't press any further. I didn't know much about daedric cults outside of the Mythic Dawn, all I really knew was that even before the Oblivion Crisis they weren't exactly something people looked kindly upon. And after my experiences with the Mythic Dawn, I could see why.

But Martin wasn't like the Mythic Dawn or Mankar Camoran, I knew he wasn't. He was too kind hearted for that. This was the man who risked his life to help others reach the Chapel of Akatosh when the daedra destroyed Kvatch, a man of the people and a servant of Akatosh. No evil person could do that, not ever.

I opened Modern Heretics and began to read it as I ate my breakfast.

[O]

A month went by and when I returned to Cloud Ruler Temple, I was once again empty handed. A shrine had been detailed in Modern Heretics, but I noticed the close proximity to Dagon's shrine and decided it was best avoided for now unless there was really no other choice.

I wandered all over, trying to find a shrine or even someone who knew about one, but as Martin had told me, people weren't keen on being associated with the daedra in the current crisis, so I was left trying to pry answers out of people. I even went to Tar-Meena at the Arcane University and I tracked down Gwinas, though neither were able to tell me much, though Gwinas was more of a case of being hesitant to reveal such an association with the daedra rather than a lack of knowledge.

If anything, it had been a slow month.

I found myself in the Great Hall with a high stack of books, desperate for even a shred of information by now. Modern Heretics was still my best bet at this point but I was still apprehensive on getting too close to Dagon's Shrine.

Martin advised me as best he could as his own book stacks increased, but he was slowly becoming more absorbed by the Mysterium Xarxes. Something I didn't like in the slightest. And I wasn't the only one. Jauffre had expressed his own concerns about the Xarxes' influence on Martin, but at the end of the day, there was not an awful lot we could do about it if we wanted to get the Amulet of Kings back. So I resolved to get Martin to stop reading once it got late. A task that grew more difficult as the days went by.

On such an evening, I sat in the Great Hall opposite Martin, having been going through the entire of Cloud Ruler's library at this point in search for even a scrap of information on a daedric shrine with no luck. The cults were usually quite secretive, but this was ridiculous.

"Aer." Baurus was standing nearby and nodded at Martin. I cursed inwardly when I looked up at the window and saw the darkened sky. I had barely registered the lateness of the hour myself and I quickly piled up my books before moving over to Martin. He was fixated on the Mysterium Xarxes and didn't seem to notice I was standing there. I frowned and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Martin." He didn't reply, so I gave him a rough shake. "Martin!"

He jumped out of his stupor, looking around.

"Oh Aerrun, I didn't realise-"

"I noticed," I grunted, slightly annoyed. "You realise how late it is? You need to go to bed."

"Soon, I'm almost done translating this next page," he said, turning back to the book.

"You can finish tomorrow," I said, trying to pull it out of his hands. "It's not doing you any good."

He tugged it out of my grasp, looking vaguely irritated at best. "It will not take me much longer, I assure you."

I rolled my eyes and decided I wasn't in the mood to argue much longer. "Fine. Be that way." And I turned to stomp out into the courtyard.

The air was freezing cold at this time of night but I barely noticed it as I pulled out my bow and shot the wall of the stable, hoping to vent some of my frustration. I could imagine Jauffre clicking his tongue at me for not using the targets but I was so annoyed that I didn't have the patience to set one up. The wall would simply have to put up with the torment for now.

Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered with Martin. All he ever did was tell me to be careful and not take his own advice and give himself a chance to rest. It made me feel like he viewed me as a mere child even though I was at least in my twenties, though my precise age eluded even me.

I just knew that I didn't like the way Martin never took care of himself and expected the rest of us to look after ourselves. He was stubborn, far too selfless for his own good and it annoyed the hell out of me. Sometimes, I just wished I didn't care so much about the damn man. But I knew that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

I heard a noise behind me and turned on my heel to see Martin there and I felt genuinely surprised. He had actually pulled himself away from the Xarxes to follow me.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you have a translation you need to finish?" I said, a little more sourly than I intended. And it was perfectly detectable as Martin ran a hand through his hair, a guilty expression on his face.

I saw a few strands of grey amongst the brown that had certainly not been there before, certainly not in the time I had known him... There were dark circles beneath his eyes, which lacked their usual shine and the lines in his face seemed to have deepened – in the space of a month, Martin looked to have aged several years and I felt my worry for him mount.

Once again, I cursed myself for not retrieving the Amulet – if I had managed it, he wouldn't be in this condition.

"I wanted to apologise," he said quietly. "You were only trying to help and I snapped at you, it was out of line."

"It's fine. Everyone's on edge lately, we'd all snap sooner or later."

"It's not an excuse, Aerrun."

I just shrugged and went to retrieve my arrows from the wall, which took a little bit of work considering how deeply embedded into the stone they were and I wondered just how angry I had been. I felt Martin at my shoulder and the proximity make my heart beat a little faster.

"Do you need any help with that?"

"I can manage. Unless you've got a spell that can help."

To my surprise, he cracked a grin. "We'll see about that."

It suddenly felt like we were on the road to Weynon Priory again, when Martin first started to teach me about magic. He demonstrated first, then instructed me carefully on how to channel my magicka to produce the desired effect. I copied him, pulling the stone around the arrow to pull away so the projectile fell out on its own accord, before the stone seemingly stitched back together as though nothing had happened.

It took a few attempts until I got the spell right, but when I did I felt that familiar feeling of being embarrassingly proud of getting the spell right.

By the time we were finished, it was well past midnight by now and I had the feeling Jauffre was watching from a window and was preparing to come down and shout us to bed.

[O]

I took the long route to Azura's shrine, giving Lake Arrius as large a berth as possible. I had finally given up on finding another shrine at this point – it was taking too long and Martin had been making more progress on the Mysterium Xarxes over the past three days. Soon enough he'd decipher the next part of the ritual and I'd need to collect the next component. And as I was still searching for the first, I knew that having to search for a second on top of that was not going to help matters.

So I caved and plotted my route to the shrine. Whilst it was faster to go directly east, it drew too close to Lake Arrius, so I diverted south a few leagues that would hopefully take me a safe distance from the Mythic Dawn's lair. Upon my arrival, there were only three people there and all of them eyed me warily as I wondered into their midst. I had conferred with Martin over how best to obtain the artifact and it seemed that I would have to make an offering to the Prince and complete a task for her.

Once complete, I would be awarded with the Star of Azura which could be used in the ritual to open the gateway to Paradise. There was no way of knowing the nature of the task, but Azura was renowned for being one of the more benign of the daedric princes and so her task was likely to be more moral than the tasks given by another prince such as Molag Bal or Boethia.

The shrine itself was a white marble statue of a woman in long robes. In one hand, she held the sun and in the other, the moon. I pulled out a small leather purse filled with glow dust, the item needed to offer to Azura at dusk or dawn. I approached the statue, pouring its contents onto the stone before Azura's feet.

Then a voice, a woman's voice, spoke and seemed to come from within the statue itself.

_I have seen your name, traveller. And heard it whispered in Twilight. I ask a service which holds promise of fame and reward. Many years ago, five followers slew the vampire Dratik and its kin, but all were infected by the foul creature. Knowing their fate, they sealed themselves up in the vampire's lair. Their suffering weighs heavily on me. _

_Travel to the Gutted Mine. The door will open to you. Bring my followers the peace of death and you shall earn my gratitude._

I waited, but she spoke no more to me and I knew my task had been set. As Martin had said, her task was benevolent in a sense even though she was requesting the deaths of her followers. In her eyes it was for their own good and if I wanted the artifact from her, I had best get on with it quickly.

[O]

When I arrived at my destination, I could see the runes scratched into the boards that held the seals in place. No one could get in and no one could get out. Yet when I touched one board, it felt loose and I pulled it away. I tugged on another and it came away. It seemed Azura had lifted the enchantments for me (as she said she would) and soon I was free to enter the tunnel that sloped downwards into the darkness of the mine.

I drew my bow and nocked an arrow, entering the darkness of the tunnels. Dust and cobwebs lined the walls, having been undisturbed in many years. I could see spiders scurrying away as the sudden light hit them. The sunlight trickling into the passage revealed the trip wire across the ground which I stepped over carefully, whilst looking out for any other traps.

Then I spotted my first target.

The gust of fresh air must have alerted him to the missing boards so I stepped into the shadows of the rock face, hoping not to be seen. He paused, seeing the sunlight and he did not proceed any further. His face was gaunt, heavily lined and eyes a pale shade of red. The tell tale signs of a vampire.

He turned back into the tunnels, most likely to inform the others of the removal of the boards. I aimed and fired. There was a sickening crunch as it severed his spinal cord and he fell to the ground, unmoving. I wasted no time in proceeding.

"One down, four to go," I murmured.

The next vampires were trickier. There were two – an orc and a nord. I managed to take the nord out with a single arrow, but the orc spotted me as a result.

I fired one arrow before pulling out my sword, matching her blow for blow. I winced as I felt a scratch in my arm, but I swung the sword around and it sliced through her neck, her head falling to the floor and her body with it. I inspected the scratch. Shallow and no cause for concern, so I pressed on deeper into the mine.

It took a good half hour of wandering around without finding hide nor hair of the final two vampires before I spotted the trick. A small, thin rope dangled from the ceiling and I tugged it to see what would happen.

A section of the wall slid to the side, revealing a passage that led ever deeper into the caverns. Torches lit the way, which was a relief or else I'd be fighting vampires in the pitch black. A fight I knew that I could never win.

I found the last two who seemed not to have heard my fight with the orc higher up in the mines. There was another orc and an imperial. The orc was far better armoured, so I took him out first with an arrow to the head. The imperial, who was lightly armoured, did not have time to react before I finished him too.

[O]

I did not remain at Azura's Shrine any longer than I needed to. The moment the Star appeared in my hand, I turned and began to return to Cloud Ruler. I had wasted far too long looking for a daedric artifact – the longer I spent scrounging for the components needed for the ritual, the further away the Amulet of Kings became.

There was no saying what Mankar Camoran intended to do with it; he may have long destroyed the Amulet already and it would have all been for nothing. But I knew we'd know if that were the case. The Mythic Dawn would taunt us openly if the Amulet was gone.

No, it was still within reach and we weren't going to stop fighting until it was back in our possession. But I reflected upon my actions in taking up Azura's task so hastily and without any pre-meditated courses of action on my way to the mine.

Even without a memory, I knew that vampires were not to be trifled with in any case. Yet I had charged off without a single idea of how I was going to deal with the blood suckers. Even the most seasoned vampire hunters, I had learnt, always took care to lay the most precise plans and even then they had backups as a precaution. I had indeed been foolish and was lucky to have escaped with only a scratch.

But it was not long after I began my return to Cloud Ruler did my attention turn elsewhere and I forgot about the vampires entirely.

It was the second night since I had killed the five followers of Azura did the dreams start. I was standing in a house. One that had clearly not been occupied in a very long time, given the cobwebs and thick layer of dust. And that was all there was the first time. I awoke feeling rather confused and strangely homesick. I thought that perhaps I had missed Cloud Ruler more than I realised.

But slowly, as the nights went on, the dreams began to lengthen. I would walk into the basement of the house where a large hole had been torn open in one wall. A sloping passage downwards, lit by red light, led to a large black door, bearing a skull, a hand print and the scene of a woman holding a knife and five children. It ought to have been frightening and ominous, yet it was not. If anything, the sight of the door was comforting. And every night, I drew closer and closer to the door, something inside of me stirring at the sight of it, yearning to open it.

As the days went by, I wondered if it was the Star causing these strange dreams until I remembered that dreams were the realm of Vaermina, not Azura.

Then I wondered if it was a memory and that the door was somehow tied to my past.

I knew if daedra were involved, it was likely a dangerous vision and I should try to dispel them, yet every night I urged myself closer, yearning to learn what was beyond. And every night, I drew nearer and nearer. The door hummed as I drew closer, urging me to lunge forward and open it.

I was near Bruma at the time. The sun was setting but Cloud Ruler was on the horizon. If I hurried, I'd have a warm bed and food tonight and after a week and a half of bitter cold, I was looking forward to it. I'd even endure Belisarius' soup if it meant warming up properly. But I had felt strange that day, not quite myself. No matter how much of my water I drank, I did not feel my quench relieve. I continued to feel thirsty and hungry all day and into the evening. It made me feel hollow inside.

Perhaps anticipation to get back to the temple and finally have good news for a change, as opposed to the usual empty leads and dead ends. Knowing the Star was in my pack put a spring in my step as I walked on. I began to climb the hill up to Cloud Ruler, spotting Steffan up on the barracks. I waved and he waved back, calling for the gates to open. But suddenly, just as I reached the top of the slope, I felt weary. My legs turned to lead the simply walk to the gates turned into the most difficult uphill battle of my life.

I spotted Martin waiting at the gates to greet me but everything began to blur around me and my knees finally gave way. I fell forwards and hit the ground, the pain registering but I couldn't not find the strength to react to it.

Then it all went dark and it happened.

[O]

I was standing in the abandoned house again and I felt no hesitation in proceeding to the basement, through the hole in the wall and down the passage. Tonight. It was tonight for sure. I was going to open that door and see what was beyond it and finally get some answers.

The door, black as night and radiating crimson light, stood before me. A voice (someone beyond it, or perhaps the door itself) rasped:

_What is the colour of night?_

"Sanguine, my brother," I replied without hesitation, as though I was born knowing the words.

_Welcome home._

The door opened onto a void of black. I felt excitement explode inside of me, fizzing away like a bottle of beer that had been shaken hard before being opened. I stepped inside and the door closed behind me.

Lights burst into life, illuminating a very familiar passage way before me. I proceeded downwards, coming into a fairly large hall. Banners bearing a black handprint hung from every wall, fluttering in a non-existent breeze.

There was no one around and I knew automatically that this was strange. But I continued onwards, as though an invisible hand beckoned me further into the sanctuary, guiding my every step.

Down the tunnel I went and still, no one. But as I went, images began to shimmer on the walls, floor and ceiling – they flooded into my head, filling in the missing gaps and tearing back the veil of shadows keeping them from me. I saw myself and Salhei in Windhelm, me climbing the walls before being scolded by my father.

A golden haired woman I knew had to be my mother, hugging me and wrapping my in a blanket to shield me from the cold.

My mother and father, heads on pikes overlooking the Palace of the Kings. Committing my first murder; a bosmer who had tried to get a little too friendly with me and tried to cheat me out on a bargain.

The Speaker Aendoril embracing Salhei and I as a brother and a sister of the Dawnstar Sanctuary.

Salhei and I on our first ever contracts.

Me, standing over the mutilated corpse of Commander Grieves.

Me, being taken away by legionnaires, covered in blood and laughing all the while.

I arrived at the final door. Old and heavy, made of dark wood and giving off an aura of death.

I knew it all now, I knew everything.

I was a member of the Dark Brotherhood. I was a murderer, a killer. I earned my way into that prison, murdering the man who had ordered the execution of my parents for their suspected involvement in the Dark Brotherhood.

I was contacted by Aendoril and invited to join the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Salhei came with me and we became assassins. Over the years, we climbed the ranks and I was made an Eliminator, one of the highest ranks attainable by those who weren't a member of the Black Hand.

Barely two months later we were driven from our home by the legion.

They murdered most of the others and burnt out the sanctuary, leaving only three survivors behind. Myself, Salhei and a young Khajiit named M'Suaki. Salhei and I departed for Cyrodiil, upon the invitation of Lucien Lachance. M'Suaki went to a sanctuary in Falkreath where a relative of hers served as an Eliminator. I didn't know if she was alive anymore.

We arrived in Cheydinhal, shortly after a string of murders within the Brotherhood had begun, but we were welcomed as family all the same and were put to work.

So when a contract came out for the head of Commander Grieves, the same man who had given the order to execute my parents, I jumped at the chance. My usual methods of a quick kill were abandoned. I tortured the man for hours, slowly carving him open and taunting him with the knowledge that the child of the couple he had killed was bringing them their justice.

When guards arrived, Grieves was long dead yet I continued, laughing as they dragged me away to the prisons. I just sat there, muttering for hours and giggling at the thought of his death before I fell asleep and woke up the next morning with no memory.

It was a dull realisation. Ever since Lucien's visit, I had suspected he was telling me the truth, whether I wanted to admit it or not. Now, standing here with my memories, I still had no regrets about my actions. My murder of Grieves had unhinged me for a short while.

Perhaps that was why the gods erased my memory, to relieve me of such insanity as a kindness. Or perhaps because they couldn't have a homicidal lunatic as their agent.

Either way, I stood in front of the door, wondering what I might find on the other side. I had all of my memories now, what more could there be?

I pushed it open and I realised it opened on to a nightmare.

Martin lay on the floor, robes stained red and his neck weeping heavily. Bent over him was a dark figure, mouth pressed to the wound in his neck, draining the life from him. Martin managed to look around at me, face ashen and pale, blue eyes empty of their usual sparkle. His lips barely moved as he let out a whimper.

The figure noticed and pulled away, rising to their feet. I felt my insides turn to ice as they turned around and I found myself staring at my own face.

[O]

I awoke with a scream, sweat pouring over me as I bolted upright. There was a loud bang and Martin scrambled over to me, taking my face in his hands.

"Aerrun, Aerrun it's okay," he soothed, brushing my hair from my face, though it was plastered down with sweat. "It's okay, you're fine. You're safe, you'll be fine."

I threw myself into his arms, sobbing with relief. He was okay. He was alive. I hadn't killed him. His hand rubbed my back gently, trying to calm me down though it was easier said than done. My memories were easy to cope with, but that vision... It felt like watching my mother and father die all over again.

I had to keep reminding myself he was okay and he was alive so I didn't go over the edge as I had done with Grieves. I had to plant myself firmly in reality this time for fear of what I might do to myself if I let the vision cloud my senses.

Maybe an hour passed before I finally turned my sobs into quiet hiccups and I finally pulled away from Martin. I realised we were in his room, which set me at ease somewhat. This felt like a safe place.

"How do you feel?" He asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and observing me with a concerned look.

"Awful... Tired... Like my head might explode..." I croaked.

"Hm..." He frowned slightly, before a relieved look appeared on his face. "It seems as though we got to you in time though. Thank the Divines..."

"In time?" His expression turned deadly serious.

"You collapsed upon your return to Cloud Ruler Temple. When I reached you, I realised you were on the brink of becoming a vampire. I was afraid I might have given you the antidote too late..."

I let the words sink in. Vampire. But the only way to become a vampire was to accept the gift of blood from an existing vampire which I had certainly never done. Then I looked down at my arm. Though they were faded, I could see the long scratches in my arm. The same ones the orc had given me.

Of course, Poryphic Haemophilia! I had had no recollection of the disease at the time of the infection and had long forgotten the injury, thanks to the dreams I had had on my return to Cloud Ruler.

"Aerrun." I looked back up at Martin. "What on earth have you been doing?"

So I told him about the task given to me by Azura, to slay her cursed followers so they were free of their suffering and how one of them managed to scratch me, likely passing on the disease that caused me to slowly develop vampirism.

I left out the dreams of the black door and my recovered memories. Seeking out daedric cults was one thing on a level of social acceptability; being a member of the Dark Brotherhood was quite another. And somehow, I didn't think anyone here would look upon the latter kindly.

"Martin... I'm not... I'm not really a... a..."

"No, you're not," he sighed. "I managed to cure you before you truly converted and the antidote has removed any of the symptoms you had developed. But I was worried we were too late."

"Sorry about that..." I murmured, scratching the scar on my thumb. The one I had given myself after Dawnstar was destroyed as a reminder of my fallen brothers and sisters. And of my vendetta against the legion.

It was then I remembered the Star and I reached for my pack, which was sitting by the bed. "I did manage to get the Star though. Here." I pulled out the artefact – it was a large, beautiful crystal that glittered in the candle light.

"Azura's Star," Martin murmured, taking the object and turning it over in his palms. "As beautiful as all the tales say. Now, rest Aerrun. You've had quite the ordeal over the past days."

I lay back on the bed and let him tuck me in before kissing my forehead and departing. I felt a sense of warmth and safety I had not felt in a very long time. Not since I was a little girl growing up in Windhelm.

**To Be Continued...**

**AN: Dun dun dun :D You have no idea how much trouble I had writing this chapter. I always knew this would be when I would have Aerrun get her memories back, but plot things kept changing and characters kept doing whatever they wanted :I**

**Fun fact: Salhei was never intended to be an actual character. He was originally just a throw away name that then became a character who elbowed his way into the story**


	8. Shadows of Sancre Tor

The following day saw me ordered to bed rest to recover from my encounter with the Poryphic Haemophilia. Whilst I was no vampire, it had been attacking my body and had left me rather weak for a while. I had tried to get out of bed that morning only to find all my muscles refusing to work and I fell to the ground with quite a bang. Martin, who had been sleeping nearby leapt to his feet and dragged me back to bed, scolding me all the while.

Jena and Baurus came to see me for a while and whilst I was glad to have their company, things felt different now my memory was back. I hadn't told anyone about it, not even Martin and it was a huge damper on my mood to the point where I felt myself lacking the motivation to even be up and about. I just wanted to curl up in the bed and feel sorry for myself, though another part of my brain was scolding me for such behaviour, so I resisted to urge to not do anything and tried to keep myself occupied whilst I was bedridden.

Primarily, I practiced spells or read books whilst Martin had moved his own tomes and his translation of the Mysterium Xarxes into the room to keep me company. In spite of everything, I was very glad to have him there with me.

By the time I was permitted to be up and about again by Jauffre, Martin had deciphered more of the Mysterium Xarxes, having unearthed the next item needed for the ritual.

"We'll need the blood of a Divine," he said, chewing his lip. "This is going to be much more difficult than the daedric blood."

"Oh excellent," I remarked as I sat beside him on the bed, looking up from the magelight I held in my palm. "It's a good thing the daedric blood was such a bloody cake walk."

"No, you don't understand. Daedra may be secretive in the location of their shrines, but they have artefacts that are comprised of their essence. However, the Divines do not possess artefacts and they do not manifest in our world as the daedra do."

In truth I knew that, but considering the fact I was supposed to be amnesic, I played along and pretended to be completely uninformed.

"So how do we get the blood of one?"

Martin frowned, closing the Xarxes and putting it to one side before leaning back, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. I will have to look into it for now and ask Jauffre for advice. He might have an idea."

And as it so happened, the Grandmaster had more than an idea. He knew the best place to get the blood of a Divine though he didn't seem all too pleased to impart the information to anyone, even to Martin. But in the end, he relented.

"I wish there were a better way," he sighed, accompanied by his signature rubbing of his temples. "In the shrine of Talos, in the catacombs beneath ruins of Sancre Tor lies the armour of Tiber Septim. It was a holy place once. If you are fortunate some of Talos' divine blood will still be upon the armour."

"So what's the catch?"

"The 'catch', as you so eloquently put it, is that Sancre Tor became evil long ago. No one has made a pilgrimage to the shrine and lived to tell the tale in centuries."

"Oh great. Just what I need after lying in bed for days," I said dryly, wondering why I had expected any different at this point. "So exactly what evil lurks there?"

"I do not know. The catacombs of Sancre Tor were sealed long ago by the first Grandmaster of the Blades. The four mightiest Blades of Tiber Septim's day, Alain, Valdemar, Rielus and Casnar, went to the Shrine of Tiber Septim and never returned. Here, this is the key to Sancre Tor. I fear I am sending you to your death, but we have no choice. You must succeed."

"But no pressure," I said in a falsely positive voice, taking the large, rusted key from him. "I'll leave now then."

"I suppose you must. Exercise greatest caution Aerrun. We cannot afford to lose any Blades at such a time," Jauffre warned and with that, he left. I frowned slightly, wondering how he might see me if he knew what I really was.

But I shoved the thought aside and set off to the armoury to retrieve my things. Baurus was inside, training on a practice dummy and didn't realise I had entered until I prodded him in the shoulder.

"Oh Aer. How you feeling?" He asked, sheathing his weapon. "Not here to bite my neck are you?" He asked this with a laugh.

"No thanks, I'd probably be sick," I replied, grinning at the look of indignation on his face. "How have you been?"

"Not bad. Kinda bored without a decent sparring partner and Jena is too terrifying to consider, to be frank. Feel like a bout or two?"

"Sorry Baurus, I'd love to but I'm heading out." He gave a somewhat comically disappointed expression, throwing out his bottom lip. "Don't give me that face. I've got to go and fetch Tiber Septim's armour from Sancre Tor."

"Sancre Tor? Are you sure about that?" His expression was set in a worried look, not dissimilar to Jauffre's which told me that Sancre Tor was indeed going to be a challenge. Jauffre being worried was to be expected; Baurus was a whole other matter.

"Yes. We need the blood of a Divine and all things considered, it's our best bet," I said, pulling on my boots and slinging my bow over my back. "I'll tell you all about it when I get back."

"Just make sure you do get back, okay?"

"Sure thing," I said, with a wink before leaving the room.

It had been a while since Baurus and I had last chatted and I did miss it to be honest. Our jokes and prods at each other were all in good fun and he was easily the Blade I was closest to (along with Jena). It pained me to keep my secrets from him and to leave without much of a goodbye, but it had to be done. I had taken too long retrieving Azura's Star, so I couldn't delay on retrieving the last of the ingredients needed for the portal.

I refused to fail again.

[O]

Sancre Tor wasn't as far from Cloud Ruler as I expected and I arrived within a couple of days. The catacombs were dank, dark and crawling with ghosts. I found myself heavily reliant on magic when dealing with them as my regular weapons had no effect on them whatsoever. But unfortunately, my magicka reserves depleted faster than I would like and it took time for them to replenish themselves. So I stuck to the shadows, creeping past the wondering spirits and thankfully they didn't seem to notice me. But there was no trace of the supposed evil that Jauffre had been speaking of nor anything to seriously warrant the worry on Baurus' face. Had it left the ruins? Had there been another reason for the four Blades to never return? I didn't know, but I pressed on with a fistful of fire at the ready.

But even as I ventured deeper into the ruins, still nothing appeared to me that struck me as an evil curse.

Just as I was seriously doubting if I was even in the right tomb, I heard an ominous creaking from around the next corner. I sank into the shadows before edging forwards and daring to peer around the bend.

It was a skeleton, pacing the ground back and forth though it was different from the ones that had been on guard outside. This one wore a helm that looked strikingly familiar to me, as did the sword in its hand. Those were of the Blades... Rotten flesh clung to the bones of the creature, old tendons and ligaments with little use anymore. It appeared to be guarding the way forwards... I'd have to fight it then. But strangely enough, I had a feeling it wasn't going to be as easy as the skeletons I had fought outside.

I crept forward, careful to not make a noise as I approached the skeleton from behind, sword raised and ready to knock it into pieces.  
>But just as I was about to swing at it, the monster spun on its heal, swinging its own sword hard and aiming right for my neck!<p>

I threw my sword up, blocking the blow though the force was enough to make me stagger backwards, leaving me wide open to another attack that I barely avoided, the edge of the blade cutting my upper arm as I ducked. It seemed the skeleton was more than a seasoned fighter and I could see why no one had returned from Sancre Tor alive in centuries.

I dodged another swing, rolling across the floor before lunging only to be blocked and pushed back again. I growled in frustration – I had thought my sword skills were improving but it seemed they were still poor compared to those trained in the art. So I reached for my belt, darting out of the skeletons reached as I pulled out the Blade of Woe.

I surged forwards, going for the spine by thrusting the dagger right through the rib cage. The skeleton shuddered as I severed the spinal cord before promptly falling to pieces on the floor.

I was about to sheath my dagger when the ghostly figure rose from the bones and I yelped, holding my weapon at the ready. But the ghost did not attack like the others. Instead, it looked confused as it observed its surroundings before settling on me. The ghost was that of a man in Blades armour and when he spoke it was in a slow, hushed voice.

"At long last... You have freed me. Now I can finally complete my lord's last request..."

"Who are you?" I asked cautiously, lowering the Blade of Woe though not sheathing it entirely as a precaution.

"I... was Rielus, loyal Blade of Emperor Tiber Septim... I do not know how long I have been dead... It feels like an eternity..."

"Rielus... One of the Blades who never returned... What happened to you? How did you end up like this?" I asked, gesturing at the scattered bones on the floor.

"My three companions and I... were sent by Emperor Tiber Septim... to discover what evil had defiled the holy ruins... of Sancre Tor..."

"And did you find out?"

"Indeed... Only too late. We did not know that the Underking... Zurin Arctus... Had arisen to take his first revenge upon his former lord... The Underking defeated and ensnared us in his evil enchantment... and bound us here to forever the defiled shrine of Tiber Septim."

"And this Underking... Is he still here?" This would definitely be a problem – if the four greatest Blades could not defeat him, what hope did I stand? An Eliminator I might be, I still had little power against the undead.

"No. He departed long ago... But his evil will remains, preventing any from paying homage at the shrine of Tiber Septim."

"Well that's just peachy," I muttered.

Why, just why did everything have to be so complicated?! Why could the things I needed so desperately never be a simple 'go here and collect this' job, rather than dealing with every evil minion and dark creature along the way?

"Over the uncounted years of our slavery here, we have brooded over our defeat. I believe that we can undo the Underking's evil magic," Rielus said, his voice still entirely monotone.

But I perked up at that, looking at the ghostly Blade with renewed interest.

"You could?"

"Yes. I go now to complete my duty to my lord Tiber Septim. Free my brothers and together, we may be able to lift the Underking's evil curse. Farewell."

[O]

The final skeleton collapsed, the bones skidding across the floor as the ghostly figure of Casnar rose from them and took shape before me.  
>I informed him of the others preparing to lift the Underking's curse on Sancre Tor and we proceeded out of the prisons towards the shrine. I could see the armour lying right there on the pedestal through the haze of green, but I resisted the urge to try to charge through and seize it. Alain had said it would be no good and the barrier would only weaken and kill me.<p>

So I waited a short distance behind the spirits of the four Blades as they carried out their ritual to remove the curse. They knelt to the ground, their swords held out before them. They spoke no words, not one utterance yet after a moment the barrier faded, the green light dimming out until the way was clear.

I looked to Rielus, who nodded and so I stepped forwards into the shrine. I stood there for a moment, waiting to see if anything would happen but nothing did. No monster or spirit or Underking attacked me, not even as I laid my hands on the armour.

It seemed I really had done it then.

I looped some belts around the cuirass and greaves, strapping them to my back whilst I carried the helm, gauntlets and boots in my arms. I bowed my head to the four Blades who bowed back in respect before they slowly dissipated into nothingness, and I knew they had moved on to the Void. I wasted not another moment in the place and proceeded towards the exit as quickly as possible.

[O]

It was snowing upon my return to Cloud Ruler and I stepped into the Great Hall, arms full of armour and shaking the white flakes from my hair. There was a gasp and I found myself smothered by Jena.

"Aerrun, what a relief! When Baurus told me that Martin had sent you to Sancre Tor of all places! Ooh, I had words with Grandmaster Jauffre about that. No one has survived Sancre Tor for centuries, and to send you so soon after you were just let out of bed it's ridiculous-!"

"Jena, it's fine!" I gasped, managing to break free from her hold. "Sancre Tor is free from evil now and I got the armour, like Martin asked me to. It's all fine."

"What?" Jena looked down at the armour in my arms and her jaw went slack, eyes widening.

She took one of the gauntlets tentatively from me, examining it as she held it up to the light (perhaps looking for signs of forgery). "Talos be praised, you did it. Quickly, you must take it to Martin at once. He will be relieved to hear of your victory!"

I took the gauntlet back, giving her a fleeting grin before heading towards Martin's room where he was most likely asleep. But when Cyrus knocked on the door (seeing as my hands were full) he answered immediately. His reaction was similar to Jena's upon seeing the armour. He took the pieces in my arms and placed them on his desk, tracing the details with a finger. I removed the cuirass from my back, depositing it on the bed.

"The armour of Tiber Septim..." Martin breathed, looking at it in awe and reverence. "His blood may flow through my veins Aerrun, but you have the soul of a hero."

I flushed slightly at the praise, but shook my head regardless. "I did what I had to do. And Sancre Tor is no longer evil, so it should be safe for pilgrimage again."

"Truly? Well done my friend, you have done more than what was asked of you. Still, you should assure Jauffre I will not destroy the armour. All I need is a scraping of Talos' divine blood."

"Did the Grandmaster say anything about the armour whilst I was away?" I asked, grinning.

"Indeed he did," Martin replied with a laugh and a glint in his eye. "Let us just say that it seems that the Blades are as touchy as priests when it comes to relics of Tiber Septim."

"Ah there you are." We both jumped and looked up to see Jauffre in the door way. "Jena just informed me of your success Aerrun. Where is the armour now?"

"It's right here Jauffre. Do not fret it shall remain intact, I only need the blood," Martin sighed, rolling his eyes when Jauffre was not looking.

"Very good. Well done Aerrun – I was not sure if you would return. I was debating sending Baurus to see if you were still in one piece," he said matter-of-factly.

His way of telling me he had indeed been worried and was relieved to see me in one piece. "But there is more to be done. An Oblivion Gate has opened outside of Bruma."

I balked and turned to face Jauffre sharply. "A gate?! Does that mean-?"

"It seems the Mythic Dawn are trying to carry out their plan of opening a Great Gate outside of Bruma," he said sombrely. "Thanks to the information you retrieved Aerrun, we know they must open three gates in order to deploy the Great Gate. Captain Burd has rallied his men outside, but he has requested your assistance. He wants to see how to close the gate so that he and his men can close any more in future. Can you do this for me, Hero of Kvatch?"

"Yes sir."

"Then go quickly. Take whatever you need that will help you in the gate and make sure to bring Burd and his men back alive."

I swallowed hard, remembering the Emperor's death. I hadn't been much of a protector back then. But surely now with the skills I had acquired and with my past experiences in the Gates, I would be okay.  
>So I nodded and left quickly, grabbing whatever gear I spotted on the way out before racing down to Bruma.<p>

[O]

It didn't matter how many times I went into Oblivion, it never got easier. If anything, I hated it more than the time before and perhaps that was due to the growing complexity of the citadel that held the sigil stone. The daedra were getting smarter and taking us seriously – it was the last thing I wanted to see but I knew it was an eventuality we'd have to face. But this time was even trickier, now that I had to keep an eye out for Burd and his two men. They clearly wanted to be anywhere but here right now (a sentiment I shared) but they pushed on regardless, hacking down the daedra and dremora as we pushed on through the Sigil Keep.

My usual tactic would be to storm through and take the daedra by surprise but I wasn't alone this time and a head on charge could be fatal in a group, especially if I did not watch out for the others.

So I led Burd and the guardsmen through the tower slowly and carefully, using my years of elimination experience to take the daedra out one by one before they even knew what was happening.

I really wanted to get out of the Deadlands as soon as possible, but I couldn't risk any of my companions getting killed. I wouldn't allow it. So slow and steady won out over fast and furious today.

The sigil chamber was, once again, relatively unguarded compared to the lower floors of the keep. It seemed Dagon really thought that he only needed to fortify the base of his tower to stop us from closing the Gate. That was one thing about this place I hoped would never change but I was not prepared to get my hopes up. Whenever I did, the world liked to throw it back in my face and make everything go wrong.

Once at the top of the chamber and the daedra lay dead, I stood before the stone.

"The stone is all that keeps the Gate open," I explained. "Pull it out, the Gate closes. Anything that came from our side in Tamriel gets sent back, so don't worry about a mad dash back."

They all looked relieved to hear that and watched as I took the stone in my hands and, with some force required, pulled it out of place. Once more, the fiery pillar that had kept the stone in place erupted, the flames filling my vision and scorching through me as the world fell away and everything turned white.

[O]

I landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of me and the sigil stone was humming in my fingers. I hated that place, I really hated it. I wished we could relight the Dragonfires already so that the damn things couldn't open anymore, but there were still two components left for the ritual to open the gateway to Camoran's paradise and so I'd keep closing Gates whilst looking for the components if it meant slowing down the Mythic Dawn's plans and stopping the daedric invasion.

I got to my feet slowly and heard the guardsmen talking frantically to Captain Burd and the two men he had brought into the gateway.  
>By the looks of things, they were shaken by the experience but very happy to be alive.<p>

"Thank you for your help ma'am," Burd said, bowing his head at me. "Now that you've shown me what to do, I think we can handle anymore Gates from here on out."

"I wish you the best of luck Captain," I said wearily, wondering how he could be so positive about anything after what he had just seen.  
>But I didn't linger, I just turned and headed straight back to Cloud Ruler Temple, ready to sleep for the rest of my life if the world would permit it.<p>

And naturally, once again, the world was not kind.

Jauffre was waiting at the top of the steps with Steffan, both of whom looked relieved to see me. Tattered and ashen-faced, but alive and whole. And by the look in their eyes, about to tell me something I wouldn't want to hear. When I reached them, Jauffre spoke first.

"We saw it from here. You successfully closed the Gate then?" The Grandmaster inquired. I simply nodded, too tired to speak now.

"Good work, as always. But I'm afraid that Captain Burd and his men can hold their ground only for so long," Steffan said, with a sympathetic look on his face and I felt a sense of dread. I was being sent off again, I knew it.

"Indeed, the daedra of Oblivion are infinite. The guards of Bruma are not," Jauffre said heavily, nodding his head slowly. "I need you to go to the Elder Council and the other Counts of Cyrodiil and ask them to send whatever aid they can to Bruma."

"But Grandmaster," I whined. "Isn't there someone else you could send for once?"

A strange look crossed Jauffre's face. Was that sympathy? Definitely not something I'd expect to see in the Grandmaster.

"I wish it were so Aerrun. You have done much for us and I am aware of how exhausting it must be for you. But I cannot afford to send anyone besides you – do you understand?"

I nodded, despite the fact I didn't like it in the slightest. "Good. You do not have to leave immediately. Rest for now, you have done much in the past few days. But I must implore the importance of the support of the other Counts."

"Yes sir."

I immediately headed for the barracks before anyone could stop me and collapsed into the first free bedroll I could find, falling asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

**To Be Continued...**


	9. Old Places, Familiar Faces

It had been weeks since I had departed Cloud Ruler Temple in order to gather reinforcements for Bruma and so far, I had done well. Ever since I had retrieved the Mysterium Xarxes, Oblivion Gates had opened up outside of cities all over Tamriel, including the cities of Cyrodiil. With such an immediate threat on their door steps, the Counts had been unwilling to send men to protect Bruma, so to gather the forces we needed I dove into Oblivion time and time again, closing as many Gates as I could. And with every success came the promise of men for Bruma and I had managed to secure the help of many of the cities.

Today found me in Cheydinhal, exhausted by travel and looking forward to getting the chance to rest once I was done. Along with Kvatch, it was the city I had left until last and I had been apprehensive about going at all.

In Kvatch, it was a matter of not wanting to take more from the people who had lost everything. But Cheydinhal was another matter. It was the place where my past lay and I had no idea what my reception there would be like. Would I be recognised by anyone? Would Lucien take it as my return to the Brotherhood?

I had no idea what had happened since my imprisonment and so I delayed going as long as possible. But I knew I couldn't avoid the place forever so when I arrived outside of the city, I kept my head down and prayed no one tried to stop me.

And no one did. Not one person seemed to register me as familiar or stopped to look at me. No guards called me out on anything and it seemed that to all of them, I might have been a stranger. It was a good start.

I proceeded into the castle, the entrance hall large enough to hold North Winds inside. There were servants scurrying about and guards posted before the throne room and by the doors. No one tried to stop me so I continued into the throne room. Banners hung from the walls and the banisters of the stairs leading to the upper levels of the castle. Side passage ways led off from the hall, likely leading to the servants' quarters and kitchens. It had been a very long time since I had been anywhere so grand though it didn't compare to the grandeur of the Palace of the Kings in Windhelm.

Two thrones stood at the end of the room but only one was occupied. Count Indarys was a dunmer and thus had the typical grey skin and red eyes. His hair was cut neatly into a short mohawk and he wore a dark blue tunic that was trimmed with gold. On his fingers, he wore several large, gemmed rings. In particular, on his right hand he wore a large gold ring inscribed with the symbol of Cheydinhal. In his hand was a scroll of parchment which his eyes were fixed on intently with a look of worry on his face.

I approached the Count and opened my mouth to speak before he cut over me.

"I don't have time to chat right now. With that Oblivion Gate looming outside of the city walls, we're bracing for an attack. Perhaps we can speak… later..."

He trailed away as he looked up at me, eyes widening and jaw slackening. He seemed to pale and I knew it only meant one thing; he recognised me. "Oh, uh… M-Miss Aerrun. I was not expecting- I had heard you had been- Perhaps now is n-not the time to discuss this… How may I assist you?"

"I'm here on business, but not for my family," I said in a cool tone. "I'm here on behalf of the Blades."

"T-The Blades?" He squeaked in surprise. "Of all people, _you _Miss Aerrun?" He quickly shook himself, his face paling further as though he had just caused me great offense. "I do not mean to be rude in anyway, I just never would have thought you the type- Never mind. What is it the Blades ask?"

"Bruma calls for aid. Our enemy plans to open a Great Gate on the city as they did in Kvatch. The guards are coping as best they can, but they need help if they are to keep the daedra at bay."

"Bruma? Ah well, I would be happy to Miss Aerrun, but… the situation… and…" He gulped, visibly sweating as though I might be holding a knife to his throat. And in truth, in his position I might very well be. "Very well, I will send men to Bruma if it means our bargain is upheld."

"But sir!" I turned around. A tall, well-built man in a dark tunic marched over. His face was one I knew well, especially the scowl he shot me as he drew level. "Surely as the Count, the troubles of Cheydinhal outweigh those of Bruma in such times, even if for a good cause? The people look to you for protection and guidance! And what of your son? Will you let Farwil perish in that Hell Gate?"

Indarys' fidgeting worsened, twisting his ring ever faster around his finger, his discomfort deepening.

"B-be that as it may Garrus, I have an arrangement with this young lady's family… To offend would be to-"

"Wait. What do you mean by Farwil? He didn't go into the Gate, did he?"

I remembered the Count's son – an arrogant brat and leader of what most regarded as a little play group known at the Knights of the Thorn. And seeing as nothing was too good for the Count's son, they were kitted out with the best gear money could buy. Gear that would be put to much better use by the guard.

But I knew from experience that gear only got a person so far in an Oblivion Gate. A lot of it came down to skill, guts and a lot of luck. All of which, Farwil had none.

"Indeed. Farwil and his Knights of the Thorn all charged in there a few days ago, not long after the Gate appeared and they haven't returned yet," Garrus explained. "No other guards have been permitted entry – we are to keep the daedra at bay and the people safe."

I didn't even have to think about it. I did not like Farwil in the slightest, but no one deserved to be trapped in the Deadlands and as long as that Gate was open, people were going to suffer. In the past, I wouldn't have done it. I would have turned around and left now that I had the promise of guards.

But then again, the old me wouldn't have risked her life just to find some lowly priest and proceed to go on suicide mission after suicide mission for him. It seemed the gods had erased more than just my memory – my whole personality had changed too.

"I'll go." Incredulous looks came from all over the room as I said this. "I closed the Gates at Kvatch and all of the other cities. I know my way around them and how to close them. I'll go in there and close it for you, and try to bring Farwil and his friends back alive. If I can."

"Y-you?! _You_ are the Hero of Kvatch? I had heard… But I never-" Indarys caught himself before he could say anything he thought that might offend me. "If you can do that for me, Miss Aerrun… I will promise double the guard to send to Bruma. And plenty of gold if you bring my son back alive, for both you and your family."

"Thank you sir."

I turned on heel and walked out without another word, aware of the stares of the Count and his subjects as I went. I got the feeling I was better known in the city than I initially realised. But I benefitted out of closing the Gate – double the men and a sum of gold if I brought Farwil back. There were benefits… Not that I had realised that when I proposed to go.

I hurried through the streets quickly, hoping to get the job done quickly so I could get back to Cloud Ruler Temple soon and perhaps get to rest properly – jumping in and out of Oblivion wasn't exactly a walk in the park. I was in such a rush, I barely saw the person I just walked into.

"Sorry," I mutter quickly, not even looking at them as I prepared to keep on walking.

"You're in a hurry," a reptilian voice purred and I felt my heart drop. "Finally back for some work? Or are you off to that Hell Gate?"

I stopped, immobilised. I knew that voice – it was one I had known for a very long time now. I looked up slowly, not daring to breathe in case I was wrong. An argonian with jet black scales, flecked with gold and leafy green eyes. He was dressed rather plainly, but I could see the tip of the dagger concealed in his sleeve. I felt a sudden rush of affection and I couldn't help but beam at him.

"Salhei."

[O]

"So the murders are still going on?" I asked as we walked through the streets, trying to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves as we did so. Generally, family members weren't supposed to interact outside of sanctuary, but Salhei and I had arrived in Cheydinhal together and it was more unusual for us not to be seen together.

"Yes they are. When I saw you in Skingrad, I had been tracking the traitor for Lucien," he explained, keeping his voice low. "When you did not acknowledge me at all, and I saw you with that priest, I knew something was wrong. I left the note, hoping you might understand the danger. I'm glad to see you had your wits about you."

"So _you_ were the one who left the note? In truth, I was more concerned about the Mythic Dawn. I didn't even remember there being a traitor until a few weeks ago… I guess he was the one who attacked me on the Orange Road then-"

"What?!" I flinched at his sudden bark and a passing women gave him a frightened look before hurrying away quickly. "Uh, sorry. But what do you mean, you were attacked?"

So I relayed the story of the robed man who attacked me. I knew it hadn't been Lucien, but the robes were identical to his own and I knew that generally meant a member of the Black Hand. My palms tingled again at the memory and I threw a nervous glance over my shoulder.

The street behind me was empty aside from the guards on patrol and I knew it was hardly warranted. The traitor could be anywhere in Cyrodiil right now and I had not seen hide nor hair of him in months. There was nothing to say he was Cheydinhal at the moment. When I finished telling my tale, Salhei looked worried, stroking his chin with a clawed finger.

"I'll have to report this to Lucien," he murmured. "We didn't know anything about this. So, Aerrun. What are you going to do now?"

We were outside of the city gates now and I could see the Oblivion Gate burning like fire nearby the stables, guardsmen patrolling the perimeter around it.

"Simple. I'm going to go in there and get more guards for Bruma. And a nice bag of gold if I can find that bloody elf," I said with a grin and Salhei frowned slightly, knowing this was unusual behaviour for me.

"Alright. But I'm going with you," he said firmly and I knew there was no point in arguing with him. "Give me the chance to go and get my armour and we'll go."

[O]

We followed the path, deciding that getting into fights with daedra was too risky right now. So we stuck to the shadows, creeping along the boulders that fringed the path, the daedra didn't catch sight of us at all. The citadel drew closer, looming over the landscape. Its spires were like giant thorns and black as coal against the sky of fire and seas of lava that surrounded it. Then, as we rounded a corner we spotted a pair of people who definitely did not belong here.

Both men, one was a dunmer and the other an Imperial and both in what appeared to have once been armour of gleaming white and gold steel. Knights of the Thorn. I was surprised with how quickly we found them, but it was better here than dead. So I nodded at Salhei and we approached them.

"Farwil!" I called and both knights jumped, brandishing weapons. I would have scoffed at them waving the heavy blades at us but it was only in the past months had I developed my sword work from hack and slash, so I said nothing.

"Well it's about time someone got here. What took you so long?" Farwil snapped when he saw who it was that approached. I felt sorely tempted to throw him right off of the cliff at that very moment and tell the Count he was already dead when we found him, but I managed to control my temper.

Salhei, however, had grown to possess less control than me in regaards to the elf and he made a threatening advance. "You'd do well to remember who you're speaking to," he hissed, clawed fingers on the blade of his dagger.

"Farwil," I said forcefully, trying to prevent a fight that would undoubtedly end in the elf's death. "What happened? What are you doing here?"

"Hmph. I set out with the rest of the Knights to dispatch this blemish on the face of our fine world. When we arrived, we were overwhelmed."

"_Why_ am I not surprised?" Salhei muttered, folding his arms over his chest and I resisted the urge to laugh or show any signs of agreement. It wouldn't help when trying to handle Farwil and get him to leave quickly.

"_I_ managed to kill at least two score of them myself," he sneered as though Salhei hadn't said a word, folding his arms over his chest. "But they just kept coming. Only Bremman and I remain alive. But now that the two of you are here, we can take that Sigil Stone from the citadel and complete our quest for the good of all Cheydinhal! Huzzah!"

I felt a twinge of annoyance at the sudden cheer from the elf, but I tried to ignore it. The sooner we closed the Gate, the sooner I could move on to Kvatch and return to Cloud Ruler.

So I decided it was best to get a move on and quickly and I could see, from their wounds, the dents in the armour and their general reputation for incompetence, that Farwil and Bremman would only be a liability.

A sideways glance showed that Salhei agreed.

"The two of you are in bad shape right now," I pointed out. "Salhei, you lead them both out and catch up when you can-"

"Are you mad?" Farwil snapped. "A Knight of the Thorn doesn't go home until the job is done. It is our way."

"As it is your way to sit in the lodge and tell tales," Salhei growled, hand still resting on his dagger. "Face it Farwil, you're not knights. You're little boys trying to spin a good tale, it'll only mean your death to stay. Now come on before I have to pull a knife on you."

Bremman looked happy to follow even Salhei to safety but Farwil was a dunmer and dunmer, by their very nature, were stubborn. And one as proud and spoilt as Farwil would never budge to anyone he considered beneath him. And wherever Farwil went, Bremman would follow like a loyal dog even if it was with his tail between his legs.

"You flee if you wish, argonian," he spat. "But Bremman and I shall fight alongside and protect the young lady here. We shall not give up now. Huzzah!"

"Fine!" I shouted as my last nerve snap at that comment. "Fine, it's your funeral! Bremman, if you want to go, then go. I've seen men better than you run as fast they could to get out of this place. There's no shame in wanting to stay alive. Salhei, keep the arguing to a minimum or else you'll lure all the daedra our way and that'll make things far more complicated than necessary. And Farwil, if anyone here needs protecting, it's you. I've done this more times than I can count. So stop being a pain or else I'll let Salhei have his way and throw you off of that citadel myself. Do I make myself clear?"

They all nodded, though Farwil did so grudgingly. "Okay. Good. Bremman, what are you going to do?"

The Imperial looked genuinely surprised that I was asking him what he wanted to do and I guessed he had never been asked once in his life what he wanted He gave Farwil a nervous glance before swallowing hard and looking back at me.

"I-I'm going to stay. I swore I would do my best to see this through and ensure Farwil's safety," he said, though he clearly didn't feel as brave as he would like. But I nodded regardless.

"Okay. Just stick close and don't be reckless. You'll be fine. Now let's get moving."

But just as I moved forwards, Farwil leapt forward.

"I suggest we use the Reman Sweep Formation! You'll assault and we'll guard the rear flank. Onward and upward. Huzzah!"

"If you say that one more time, knight-boy," Salhei growled, advancing on him again, dagger drawn. I threw out an arm and gave Salhei a warning glance. "I'm just saying… I'm not taking a single order from you, grey skin. Aerrun, and only Aerrun, gets to tell me what to do."

I smiled slightly before looking around for any sign of a path forward. But just as I did so, there was a loud grinding noise that made everyone jump and look for the source of the noise. The war gates along the bridge were opening. It was the first time I had seen it happen – usually I had to find a way around them or use whatever mechanisms I could find to pry the things open. I had the worst feeling their opening did not herald good news for us, so I took out my sword and proceeded forwards.

Bodies were littered across the bridge like marionettes with the strings cut. Mortal and demon alike, their blood bright crimson against the grey stone. The smell of burning flesh lingered in the air, a stench I had become unfortunately familiar with over the past few months now. And standing between us and the tower beyond were at least twenty daedra, all of which looked ready to tear us apart.

Without a second thought, I shot a fireball into their midst and there were horrible screams from the pack as the flames exploded and spread fast. The monsters surged forwards and Salhei was the first to leap into the fray, swinging twin daggers left and right, felling every beast that was foolish enough to cross him. Farwil hung back from the main body of the fighting, sword in hand and yelling encouragement and orders that no one listened to.

A dremora swung a mace at my head, only for me to duck and I heard the crunch of another daedra having its head crushed instead. I stabbed the monster in the gut, ripping the sword out and swinging it at the scamp that leapt at me, landing a hit right in the ribs. A swift stab to the gullet ended it quickly.

I heard Bremman scream somewhere to my right and I rolled out of the line of fire, blasting back the spider daedra with a bolt of lightning before she could finish the man. The corpse curled up onto its back, crisped and smoking.

"Seriously Bremman," I sighed as I pulled him back to his feet. "It's not too late to turn back now."

"No, I've gotten this far. But thank you for saving me. Watch out!" I ducked just as Bremman stabbed and the dremora screamed in agony before dying on the end of his blade.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," he said with a grin. I decided Bremman, though cowardly, was far more valuable than Farwil could ever dream to be.

I looked around to see Salhei dispatch the final scamp. We were sweaty, battered and bloody but alive and on our feet. Farwil scurried over, wearing a brave expression that made me want to hit him. "Alright, let's keep moving."

"Huzzah- OW!"

"I told you to stop that." And I was growing fonder of Salhei by the minute.

[O]

We climbed higher and higher through the tower, cutting a path through the daedra with ease. We came out onto another balcony in the main body of the tower, making short work of the Sigil Keeper that was waiting.

I was relieved to see the curved red ceiling just above us, the pillar of fire disappearing inside. The sigil chamber was just ahead us now.

I looked over my shoulder to see how we were doing. Farwil and Bremman had been battered when we found them and right now they looked as though they had been dragged from a scrap heap. Armour dented and faces bloodied, they had clearly never been through hell like this. Salhei on the other hand, though scratched up, still looked perfectly deadly and ready to proceed. I was very glad he was on my side.

I was worse for wear, though nowhere near as bad as the two knights and so we entered the stony passage leading into the final chamber. In the past, this room was relatively unguarded and I hoped that this continued to be the case but I was not going to get my hopes up about that.

The Gates had been growing more complex lately and the enemies more powerful. It would only be a matter of time before Dagon improved the sigil chamber's security too.

"Okay, you two wait here. Salhei and I will clear the final chamber and then we'll get out of here."

And for once, Farwil didn't argue. He and Bremman just took their positions by the door, seemingly relieved we were going into danger and not them. I looked around at Salhei, who nodded in return and we moved up the passage way.

I thanked Akatosh to see there were only a handful of daedra – more than usual but not so many that I considered it a serious problem. A couple of dremora and a handful of scamps and a pair of clannfear. We tore our way through, right up to the top of the room. The screams of the dying daedra filled my ears as we stormed the chamber, taking them out one by one. It did not take long to clear.

"Now what?" Salhei asked, as we stood before the stone.

"I'll get Farwil and Bremman," I said heavily, starting down the stairs. "Anything from our side gets sent back when we pull it out, but they'll freak out if they don't know what's happening. Let's reduce the mental trauma as much as possible, shall we?"

"Right."

I returned to the passage alone.

"Farwil. Bremman. Let's go, we can close the gate now." There was no reply and I let out an exasperation sigh. Even those idiots had to have the strength to walk, right? Then I noticed something that I was sure hadn't been there before and sent a cold bolt down my spine.

A trail of blood was dotted down the floor, back in the direction we had come from. That had certainly not been there before and Salhei and I had not been bleeding that badly. I felt my insides go cold. "Farwil? Bremman?" I crept forwards as my insides dropped lower with every step. When I rounded the corner, I walked into a massacre.

A clannfear stood before the corpse on the ground that had once been Farwil, ripped asunder by the monster. Scraps of skin and organs littered the ground, armour wrenched open and bones visible in the bloody mess. His face was mutilated beyond all recognition. Bremman cowered on the ground, whimpering and pleading pathetically.

The clannfear… It must have slipped past us out of the chamber… It reared up on its hind legs, opening its jaws wide and exposing long, blood stained teeth with flesh and sinew hanging from them.

I saw red and lunged with a scream of pure fury. The demon had no time to block the attack before I rammed the blade right into the soft flesh of its neck and I stabbed it through the head for good measure. Blood splattered all over me and onto the floor, hot and sticky as the body crumpled and fell to the floor with a thud.

I took deep, shaking breaths.

I had failed. AGgin. I swore to bring him back and I had failed. I told them to wait here. I left them alone, wounded and vulnerable in the lair of the beast and it cost Farwil his life. I had failed to protect another person all over again.

My mother, my father, the Emperor; they all flashed before my eyes, dying as the blades took their lives, rending heads from bodies and burying themselves into backs as I stood there, helpless and frightened, unable to move until it was too late.

I sank to the floor, eyes watering badly. Fool… Just a silly, childish fool who should have gone back… I should have had Salhei drag him and Bremman back, no matter how much kicking and screaming Farwil did. As annoying as he had been, he didn't deserve this. To die such an agonising death…

"Miss Aerrun…" Bremman croaked, reaching out. I looked up and saw he was missing his right hand. I felt an agonising twist in my chest at the sight of the bloody stump where the limb ought to be. I crawled over to the man. He had been torn apart, but he was alive and I was sure a healer could save him.

"Bremman… You just, you have to hold on, okay?" I said in spite of the fact I was crying. "We'll get you home to Cheydinhal and the priests will help you. Just hang on." He nodded stiffly and I placed a hand over his bleeding wrist and channelled my magicka in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Behind me, there was the pounding of footsteps and I leapt to my feet, raising my sword at the ready. Salhei pelted down the corridor, chest heaving in panic before stopping before me. He looked scared and confused. Gently, he took my wrist and lowered the outstretched weapon before cupping my cheek.

"Aerrun, what is it?! What happened?!" His eyes fell on the scene, taking in the sight of the mangled Bremman and the corpse that was once Farwil. "I see. Well that's that then. Let's go."

He reached down and placed Bremman's arm over his shoulders, levering him up. He looked at me expectantly but I refused to move, fists clenching at my sides. I managed to hiss: "How… How can you just say that?"

"What?" He asked, frowning. "Aerrun, it's just a piss pot knight. Why does it matter? Now let's go before-"

"I told the Count-!"

"You told the Count you'd close the Gate and try to bring Farwil back. You tried, you failed, oh well. Now let's go before anything else turns up."

"Exactly Salhei! Exactly, I failed! I failed all over again!" I yelled hoarsely, punching the floor so hard I was sure I had broken something. "I'm a pathetic little girl who can't protect someone when it matters most!" My breaths were quivering as I knotted my good hand into my hair and the tears poured down my cheeks. I wasn't sure why I was getting so worked up about it. I had never even liked Farwil but I had gotten so close to getting him home and then my blunder cost him his life.

Salhei gave me a long hard look, as though unsure of who I was anymore.

"I don't understand what's happened to you Aerrun," he said softly. "But you tried and that's more than anyone else can say. Now let's go home."

"Wait." I approached the body and pulled off Farwil's signet ring from his finger. It was identical to the Count's. "His father will want this."

"Fine. Now let's go."

I finally turned away from the bloody mess and followed Salhei and Bremman. The body would end up on the other side of the gates so there was no need to drag it with us and the Count would have something to bury, not matter how ugly it was. And all I could think, as I pulled the stone into my arms and the world turned into fire, was that I had failed all over again.

[O]

Salhei had to lead me into the castle and hadn't even bothered to dispose of his armour. The body materialised, as I knew they would and I told the guards what had happened. A priest from the chapel was summoned to prepare Farwil for burial quickly and another took Bremman back to tend his wounds whilst Salhei led me away.

The Count was waiting, sat in his throne as he spoke to Garrus. When he saw us approaching, he sat bolt upright and dismissed the guard quickly.

He was pale and looked distinctly ruffled with dark circles around his eyes – we had been gone for hours and he clearly hadn't slept. But his face fell when he set his eyes upon me, scratched, burnt and bloody with wet cheeks and red rimmed eyes.

There was no point trying to clean up just yet. Best to get it over with.

"Miss Aerrun, you are back. And Master Salhei," he said with a quick bow of his head. "Well, the Gate. Is it…? And Farwil?"

"The Gate is closed sir," I said in an empty voice. "But the Knights of the Thorn… Only Bremman survived… Farwil is dead."

"What… He is… No, no it cannot be!" He howled in anguish. "He cannot be! My boy!"

"He is sir… I managed to recover his ring…" I held out the offending object to the Count, who took it in shaking hands. He stared at it and then at me and I couldn't stop myself from shaking now. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Salhei pulled me closer into his side, but I couldn't stop the words pouring out of my mouth, over and over again. I felt my eyes burn again.

"You remember your deal, right?" Salhei growled at Indarys. "You send double the men and pay her the gold. Now."

"O-of course," Indarys hiccupped, recomposing himself quickly as he snapped his fingers. "Bring the girl her gold. Miss Aerrun… Take this." I looked up to find Farwil's ring being pressed into my hand and I immediately tried to push it back. "No, take it. My son brought his death upon himself. But by wearing his ring, perhaps his spirit can fight on through you."

"I-I can't. I can't take it," I said thickly, shaking my head.

"Nonsense. You have done Cheydinhal a great service by closing that Gate and returning Farwil's ring to me. I'd never have dreamt that you of all people would do me such a kindness, so I insist you must be rewarded. I will send double, no, triple the guard to Bruma. And gold, for all of your trouble."

My protests went unheeded as a small chest of gold coins was presented to me by a foot servant. It was too much, far too much for me to take and Salhei had to tuck it under his arm before leading me back out of the castle as I cried.

I knew my tears were far more than just over Farwil. This had been a long time coming – diving in and out of Oblivion. Facing countless dangers and death at every corner. And whilst I evaded it, it seemed I was incapable of ensuring others dodged it too. The weight of all of that had been weighing on me for some time now and something had broken inside of me, no longer able to contain it inside.

I was hardly aware of where Salhei was leading me until we came to the Black Door.

_What is the colour of night?_ It rasped.

"Sanguine my brother," Salhei replied.

_Welcome home._

The door opened, permitting us entrance to the sanctuary inside. The door closed behind us as Salhei led me down the passage into the main body of the sanctuary and I felt the warmth of home. The last time I had been here was in a dream and I never realised I had been yearning for it all this time.

"Sister! Ocheeva, everyone! Salhei has brought Aerrun home!" I felt someone throwing their arms around me. I felt too numb to really register the grip around me and too stunned to respond even as they pulled away to look at me. "Dear sister, we were so worried about you! Are you okay? What an earth have you been doing? Where is your armour? Oh sister, where have you been?"

"Shush Antoinetta," Ocheeva hissed as she hurried over, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder and easing her away from me. "Our sister has clearly had quite the ordeal. Now Salhei, what on earth has happened? How did you find Aerrun?"

I tried to respond, but my voice wasn't working. The other members of the sanctuary were appearing now and swarmed over me in delight. They greeted me warmly, asking so many questions that I felt simply overwhelmed and just cried, burying my face into my hands. I couldn't respond with anything but a shake of my head.

"Quiet, all of you!" Salhei roared. "Give the woman some space. Much has happened in the past months and she needs rest. Ask your questions when she is ready."

"Of course Salhei," Ocheeva agreed, nodding. "Everyone, return to your duties for now. Our sister will speak when she is ready. Now dearest sister, you must be exhausted. Salhei, I'm sure you have a report for Lucien about this. Go to Fort Farragut and speak with him, I will tend to Aerrun."

"Yes Ocheeva," Salhei said, albeit reluctantly as he released me. I didn't want him to leave but I let Ocheeva lead me away towards the quarters as everyone else dispersed slowly, looking over at me in confusion and concern. The room was empty but my heart swelled with a sudden, nostalgic feeling. It was warm and welcoming and I knew I belonged here.

"Sleep well sister dear," Ocheeva said gently, petting my hair as she peeled off my battered leathers and retrieved some healing potions. "We will clean up your wounds properly now and we will speak in the morning, if you feel ready."

I nodded weakly as she began to tend my injuries. Once she was done, she steered me into bed, where I curled up under the sheets and gave into my exhaustion.

[O]

I awoke the next morning, fresh from a wave of nightmares and feeling as though I hadn't slept at all. My body felt heavy, my mind slow and like I was detached, like I wasn't me and was simply watching someone else through their eyes. Around me, I could hear gentle breathing and noted that everyone else was asleep. There was something heavy lying across my legs and I realised it was Schemer, the skeever was a pet I had kept secret from my parents ever since I found him when I was about nine. He had been much smaller back then and it was easy enough to hide him under my bed. When he got too big, I hid him in the cellar until the day I was recruited into the Dark Brotherhood. He had lived in the sanctuary ever since.

When I shifted, he stirred and instantly was upon me, nuzzling my cheeks and curling up in my lap as I scratched him behind the ears. I had missed the oversized rodent terribly and it seemed he had missed me too.

After a while, I shooed him off of the bed and climbed out before rooting in my pack for a change of clothes. But they were gone. In their place was a set of very familiar armour – midnight bound to leather with a soft cloth hood. A pauldron bore the mark of the Black Hand. This wasn't my armour set, but then again mine had been confiscated upon my arrest. It was probably gone forever, so this was my new set.

It was better than the tattered clothing I had been wearing up to now, so I pulled off my shirt and trousers and pulled on the armour set. It felt right, the way it hugged my body, not like the bulkier armour I had been wearing since my departure from Weynon Priory.

"That's a good look for you." I jumped and spun on my heel to see Salhei leaning against the wall nearby. "Better than what you were wearing before."

I didn't reply and just knelt down to stroke Schemer. I wasn't really up for talking right now. "Aerrun. Why'd you get so upset about the elf?"

"I swore to bring him back. I failed. But… I don't think it was just about Farwil…"

"What do you mean?" He asked, moving over to stand beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You can tell me."

"I…" I stood up slowly. "I think it's just something that's been brewing for weeks now… It just needed something to set it off. All those times jumping in and out of that place, fighting for my life, knowing what's at stake if I fail… Farwil's death was just the trigger."

"I see…" We stood there in awkward silence for a while before Salhei broke it once more. "I'd best be off. I have a contract I need to get onto today, so I'll see you when I get back."

And with that, he left. He slipped out of the room and I was stood quite alone. No one else had stirred the whole time so I decided to go and find something to eat. The chances were that I wouldn't see Salhei later – I needed to go to Kvatch.

Farwil's death, if anything else, had reminded me just what the daedra would do if they won this war. If they weren't stopped, Farwil would only be one of the many corpses rent open like that and I was one of the only things standing in their way.

I grabbed my pack and tucked some food inside hurriedly before leaving the room. The Dark Guardian was roaming the main hall as normal and paid me no heed as I walked through the room. I headed for the Black Door, only for a voice to call me back.

"Going somewhere?" I flinched and turned to spot Gogron striding over, Schemer at his heels. An orc, he was huge and imposing in his steel armour. A large axe was slung over his back, though he didn't seem angry with me, just curious. "Sister, it's been so long since we talked properly. I'd hug you! But Ocheeva told me not to."

"I imagine she did," I said with a weak smile as I placated the skeever that was rearing onto his hind legs and squeaking a little too loudly in distress. "How have you been Gogron?" I hadn't been looking to make conversation, just to leave without awkward questions. It seemed such a luxury was being denied once again.

"Not bad. Crushed some skulls, sent poor sods to the Dread Father. That sort of thing," he said with a shrug. "But you seem to have been busy, considering your state. I heard you and Salhei talking a few minutes ago. You said strange things sister."

"Yes well," I muttered, fidgeting. "Things have changed since I was arrested… There's things I need to do before I can come back, Gogron."

"What kind of things?"

"Killing things," I replied. "Daedra, cultists, Mankar Camoran. You know, that sort of thing."

"Aha!" Gogron laughed, slapping me so hard on the back that my knees buckled and I winced, trying to smile. "I knew it! You can't resist the smell of fresh blood sister. Well, good luck in killing those things and make sure to tell us all about it when you come home. I'll tell Ocheeva when she wakes up."

"Kill well and often. And Gogron, tell Salhei I'm sorry and that I'll be home as soon as I can." The orc nodded, smiling.

"Kill well and often, sister. And I can take care of Schemer whilst you're away, unless he's going with you?"

I looked down at the skeever, petting his head gently. "I'm afraid where I'm going is no place for skeevers. Just be a good boy and wait a while longer until I get back, okay Schemer?"

Schemer let out a distressed squeak and sunk his claws a little deeper into my greaves, not willing to let go. Gogron pried him free, holding the distressed rodent in his arms.

Trying not to feel too guilty, I finally turned to leave, pulling the Black Door open and stepping into the stone passage way beyond. It pained me to leave this place really, but I needed to leave. If I stayed a moment longer, I wouldn't want to leave. And I had to if I was to stop Mankar Camoran, I had to leave. If I survived this whole mess, I would return to them.

But for now, the hunt for Mankar Camoran would go on until I had his head on a platter.

**To Be Continued…**


	10. Return to Bruma

It felt good to be back in Bruma. I never realised just how much I missed the cold winds and snow until I was back in the north – it reminded me of Windhelm. On my way back to Cloud Ruler, I made a quick stop in North Winds to have my equipment repaired and ensure it was in top condition. There had been no time when I was out in the field and a lot of it had worn down over time.

Skjorta offered me a drink, but considering I had a report to make and undoubtedly another item to retrieve for Martin, I had to steadfastly decline before departing.

Cloud Ruler Temple was a welcome sight after so many weeks of travel and I was looking forward to seeing the Blades again. I had noticed the guards from across Cyrodiil packed into a camp in the castle courtyard – a particularly large party belonging to Cheydinhal, I noticed. The Elder Council could not spare any men, but with so many from the Counts and Countesses it really didn't matter.

No doubt, the Blades had heard of my success by now and hopefully relieving one more worry from Jauffre's mind. In fact, upon my arrival there was a cheer from the battlements once I was spotted. The gates swung open and Baurus was the first to reach me as I reached the top of the stairs, throwing his arms around me in a rough embrace.

"Well done Aer!" He roared. "The Mythic Dawn don't stand a chance of opening any gates here now!"

Jena appeared at my shoulder, beaming. "We heard that you closed a lot of Gates too. How did you get Count Indarys to send so many men?"

"Oh you know," I chuckled, unconsciously twisting Farwil's ring on my finger. "I have a way with people."

"Indeed." Jauffre and Steffan approached next, Steffan smiling and Jauffre trying not to look too pleased with me. "You have done very well Aerrun. I doubt any of us could have gathered so many allies. The Bruma guard will be able to handle any more Gates much more easily now. Captain, perhaps you should get your men back to their posts?"

"Of course Grandmaster. Back to work now, all of you!" Steffan barked before looking back around at me with an odd twinkle in his eyes. "You should get something to eat Aerrun. I'm sure Belisarius has some stew left from this morning."

"No! I mean, I got something to eat in Bruma," I said hurriedly. A laugh ran through the group and I could see the twinkle in the Captain's eye, so I smirked back. "Though a mug of mead wouldn't be too bad."

Jauffre shook his head and I could have sworn I heard him mutter something that sounded distinctly like 'Nords…' as he walked away. I just let Baurus take me by the arm and lead me back up the steps towards the temple.

"New threads?" I frowned and he pointed at the armour I was wearing and I turned scarlet, realising I had never changed out of the Shrouded Armour. But then again, no one outside of the Brotherhood knew what the armour of the Brotherhood looked like. I made a quick excuse that my old armour fell apart and that the Count gave me my current set as a token of his gratitude.

Baurus seemed to buy it and I quickly inquired after Martin before he could ask any further about it. "He would have been out here too, but he's asleep right now. He's run himself into the ground without you around to keep his nose out of that book for more than twenty seconds."

I frowned. In truth, I shouldn't have been surprised that Martin hadn't allowed himself a break. With my running around all over the place, closing Oblivion Gates and gathering items for the ritual, he was likely feeling more pressed than ever to translate the rest of the ritual. But even so, he should have considered his own wellbeing. I'd have to tell him off for that later.

Once inside the hall, it felt like sinking into a hot bath and I couldn't restrain a sigh of content at the heat seeping into my bones. Baurus just chuckled and we proceeded into the kitchens where we retrieved flagons and bottles of beer before returning to the hall where the redguard insisted I tell him everything that had happened in the time I had been away.

I carefully omitted Salhei and the Dark Brotherhood from the story, though it was hard not to get upset when I retold Bremman's mutilation and Farwil's death at the hands of the dremora. From what I learnt before leaving Cheydinhal, Bremman would recover but he'd never fight again.

Baurus placed an arm around my shoulders and squeezed gently to comfort me. "You tried Aer. You tried your best and it wasn't enough. At least the Count didn't hold it against you and refuse to assist Bruma. I know it's a harsh way to think of things, but your efforts are protecting the people here," he said gently. "You should be proud of that."

I nodded and took a sip of my drink, staring at the gold ring on my finger.

[O]

I decided to go and check on Martin after having some breakfast. In reality, I had been starving for a proper meal and even Belisarius' stew was a treat after the tiny rations I had allowed myself over the past few weeks. I couldn't eat much though, with my stomach having shrunken to the size of a grape in that time.

I found the heir in his room, fast asleep and seemingly not having a peaceful rest from the sweat on his brow. He looked worse than when I last saw him. The circles beneath his eyes were darker, his hair greyer and the lines in his face deeper than ever. If he wasn't careful, he'd soon be impossible to tell apart from his father.

"Martin," I said quietly, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Aerrun…?" He mumbled, though his eyes didn't open immediately. "Why're you here?"

"Because someone has to tell you off for being a dung-brain," I said, rolling my eyes. Slowly, his bright blue pair opened and looked up at me. "Morning sleeping beauty."

"You really are back then? Thank the Nine, I was starting to worry. How are you? I heard you had a difficult journey," he remarked as he sat up, shaking his hair out of his face.

"I'm fine. And you're not. What have I told you about that book Martin?"

He simply brushed me off. "I'm fully aware of the dangers of the Xarxes and its toll. But we need to take advantage of the strength we have now and recover the last items needed for the ritual."

I huffed but knew there was no changing the stubborn mule's mind on such a matter and so I left the room so he could dress in peace. When he stepped out the door, he was carrying a towering stack of books that looked as though it might topple over at any second.

"Careful!" I yelped as the top volumes began to slide forwards and I grabbed them for they could fall. "Honestly Martin, you're good with magic but even you couldn't carry that many books."

"I could. It's not my fault you jump to conclusions like that," he retorted with a smirk. I rolled my eyes again and we made our way to the Great Hall, with Martin inquiring what had happened during my trip and I got the feeling I would be repeating it several times if I wasn't careful, so I told him to wait until I could tell it to the others. And as I suspected, the minute we entered the hall Baurus, Jena, Cyrus, Caroline and Pelagius were waiting to hear the tale from me personally, Baurus looking to hear a repeat.

I told them what happened, from the Imperial City to Kvatch, of each Oblivion Gate along the way and the horrors within. Once again, I was careful to make no mention of the Dark Brotherhood though I did note that Count Indarys seemed to recognise me.

"Wait, he did?" Caroline gasped. "He knew who you were?"

"Hey Aer, you failed to mention that earlier," Baurus pointed out, brow furrowed.

"I didn't really think about it earlier. But he mentioned having an agreement with my family – he would have sent men even if I didn't close the gate," I replied, trying to look thoughtful about it. "But his son, Farwil had gone in there and he promised twice the guards if I could close the gate. In the end, he sent triple."

"And Farwil?" Pelagius asked.

"Dead. He was alive when we- I found him." I corrected myself quickly, hoping no one noticed the slip up. I didn't like the look in Martin's eye but pressed on quickly in the hopes he'd forget. "But when we got the Sigil Chamber, a clannfear killed him. I didn't get to him in time and it managed to maul Bremman."

I looked down at the floor, twisting the ring on my finger again, staring at Cheydinhal's symbol intently.

"Like I said before Aer, you tried your best. No matter how badly you want to, you can't save everyone," Baurus said gently, placing his arm around my shoulders again.

"Baurus is right, Aerrun," Jena added, brushing out my hair which had been tangled and messy in its ponytail. "All any of us can do is our best. And best of all, you might finally have a clue to your past. When this mess is cleared up, you should ask Count Indarys and see what he knows."

I just nodded and everyone slowly dispersed back to their day to day jobs, but Martin was still giving me that funny look so I slipped out into the courtyard to do some training.

But by afternoon, I realised I had no energy to will myself to train, so I spent the majority of the time just watching Pelagius and Achille sparring together or sitting on the edge of the battlements, overlooking Bruma.

If anyone found my behaviour worrying, they didn't comment on it though Steffan prompted me to go into the city for the afternoon and have a good drink with the local nords. Seeing as I had no reason not to, I did as was suggested and leapt from the top of the walls (Steffan yelling as I did so) and landed neatly on the ground below.

"Aerrun, in future use the stairs!" The Captain shouted from the top of the walls. I just smiled and walked down the road towards the city.

I could see the guards from all around Cyrodiil in their camp, though some could be seen wandering the city. Whilst I had been gone, more Gates had opened outside of the city and it seemed that Captain Burd and the men had been doing an efficient job in keeping them shut, though I heard rumours of a slaughter in the most recent attack.

Again, I thought about the fact that it wouldn't have happened if I had just managed to retrieve the Amulet of Kings. It was a fact that I needed to get out of my system – regretting my failures only made me feel worse and right now, I couldn't afford to feel any worse than I already did. But I couldn't quite squash it.

[O]

Upon evening, I returned to Cloud Ruler feeling little better than I had before which didn't escape unnoticed. Immediately Jena and Baurus sat either side of me, coaxing me with food and drink though I ate little and drank even less. How did it seem harder to pretend everything was okay? I thought it'd get easier as time went by.

"Aerrun, can I speak with you privately?" Jauffre called from the entrance to the library. When I stepped inside, he closed the door. Steffan was the only other person in the room, standing as the table in the centre of the room.

"Is there a problem Grandmaster?" I asked, trying to sound like my normal self. And clearly it was a wasted attempt – nothing got past Jauffre.

"That remains to be seen. Everyone has been worried since you departed so long ago and now you certainly seem… Out of spirits," Steffan remarked as Jauffre led me over.

I said nothing, determined not to give anything away easily.

Jauffre sighed heavily. "Aerrun, I will ask you one question and I want you to answer honestly: when did your memories return?"

"I- What?!" How? How did he know? How did he work it out so easily? I had never so much as hinted that I recalled anything of my past and I had guarded it carefully.

"You wonder how I know. You were excellent at hiding it Aerrun. Nothing you said could have indicated you could recall your history and your feigned ignorance shows a particular skill at lying. But I have seen far more years than you – the look in your eyes says everything. I've known for some time now though I never thought it appropriate to broach the subject," he said matter-of-factly. "But suddenly you return to the temple lacking your usual vigour and in the armour of the Dark Brotherhood no less."

"I-I…" I tried to come up with an excuse, anything to escape the conversation now.

He knew, oh by Sithis he knew. I had never expected Jauffre to know, but this was the Grandmaster of the Blades. Of course he knew. But Jauffre merely raised a hand to silence me.

"We know that you can be trusted. You have proved an invaluable ally and a fiercely loyal Blade to Martin and the Order. You are not here to kill Martin or any one of us here." He gave me a particular look, before continuing. "What I want to know is when your memories returned. And why you returned to your Brotherhood, even if briefly. I can assume you did not go any earlier than when I sent you to gather allies for Bruma?"

I looked at my feet and bit my lip. It didn't sound like Jauffre was going to punish me or hand me over to the guards for being an assassin. If anything, he wanted to give me a fair chance to speak my side of the story and by the looks of things, Steffan felt the same.

"It was when I was returning from Azura's Shrine. The night I collapsed outside of Cloud Ruler actually. I had been having strange dreams of the Black Door that leads into the sanctuary. That night, I entered the sanctuary and my memories returned to me. I didn't say anything because… I was scared. Scared I wouldn't be wanted here anymore… I had friends here, I didn't want to lose them."

Neither one of them interrupted me and gave me a look that told me to carry on.

"I went to Cheydinhal to get Count Indarys' help. He recognised me as a member of the Brotherhood and was going to offer guards regardless of the gate. When I heard about Farwil, I offered to go in and find him and he promised double the guards if I succeeded. On the way I ran into another member of the Brotherhood, an old friend of mine from Windhelm. He accompanied me into the Gate and helped me to close it. But I was… In a bit of a state after Farwil died. He took me back to sanctuary, where I could rest in safety. I left the next morning and left a message with one of them that I was leaving."

"Why?" Steffan asked and I knew that he was testing me, assessing my response. But there was no need, I knew exactly why.

"Because I had to finish what I started here," I replied firmly. "I saw what the Mythic Dawn did to the Emperor, what they did to Kvatch and I know what they're planning to do. It was so tempting to just stay there and pretend nothing had changed. But if I had done that, we'd all have been doomed. I had to come back to help stop them… And because I didn't want to just disappear. I did that to one family, I couldn't do it again."

There was a long silence as they both listened and appraised me thoughtfully for a long while before turning to pace the room. I remained where I was and waited for their final verdict.

Jauffre could throw me out right now, or throw me to the guards and headsman's axe. But I got the feeling he wouldn't. Even if he didn't like my being with the Brotherhood, I was still valuable and I had made a mark around here.

"Very well. It is not unheard of to have assassins in our ranks, in fact we have members in several sanctuaries across Tamriel," Jauffre said matter-of-factly, much to my surprise. "They are able to give us otherwise unobtainable information and are highly useful in many operations."

"Though we do not parade that fact around," Steffan added sternly. "Generally those within the Dark Brotherhood do not share that information outside of themselves, myself and Grandmaster Jauffre. There are those within these walls who will not approve, you see."

I nodded, swallowing on the lump in my throat. There were other assassins within the Blades. So that meant I wasn't running the risk of being thrown out then… It was a relief.

"However, we had to be sure of your intentions," he continued. "We can't let any old assassin in. But you were no assassin when you joined us and your absence has become highly noticeable as of late. It has not been a happy one."

"Indeed," Jauffre agreed, nodding. "Now, that has been dealt with. Aerrun, I believe that Martin has deciphered the next part of the ritual, so I suggest you go and speak with him. Off you go."

I groaned but did as I was told. Back for a day and I was being sent out on yet another goose chase. I knew it was best to be fast about these things, but even so this was just getting painful. The sooner this Oblivion Crisis was over, the better off we'd all be.

[O]

Martin was at his table, reading the Mysterium Xarxes carefully. I noticed another table had been pulled over to cope with the overflow of books and notes that had piled up as time went on.

"Ah, Aerrun," he greeted as I sat opposite him. "How are you?"

"Lousy," I muttered. "But I'm surviving. Jauffre said you've translated the next part of the ritual."

"Yes, I have in fact. The next item we need is a Great Welkynd Stone."

"Great what stone?" I asked, head cocked to one side, genuinely puzzled.

"Welkynd. Have you ever been inside any of the Ayleid Ruins across Cyrodiil?"

"Nope."

He sighed and I knew my lack of knowledge was making this more difficult, though it couldn't be helped. Even with a restored memory, I had no knowledge of the Ayleid ruins or their contents. All I knew was that the undead lurked down there and as an assassin, I wasn't too fond of them.

"Welkynd stones are stones of magical power that were once used by the elves as a source of power. But Great Welkynd Stones have far greater power than that of the smaller Welkynd stones and have been plundered by mages and occultists over the years. To the point where only one remains – the Great Welkynd Stone of Miscarcand."

"Here's an idea, start using words I understand," I remarked bluntly.

"You truly are no scholar," Martin tutted, shaking his head. "Miscarcand is one of the Ancient Ayleid Ruins and the resting place of the last known Great Welkynd Stone. Anyone who has seen it has only ever glanced it from a distance."

"So it's like Sancre Tor, but worse right? Brilliant, where do I start?"

Martin rolled his eyes and pulled out a tome from within his mountain of books and handed it over to me. It was titled _Glories and Laments_.

"The information you need is in there. I'm also close to discovering the final piece of the ritual – we're close now," he said with a note of positivity in his voice.

"And then we can get rid of that bloody book," I said, glancing at the Xarxes. "I vote that I'm the one to burn it."

"Haha, Aerrun I admire your eagerness. But the Mysterium Xarxes is a powerful artefact and will not be so easily destroyed. Mehrunes Dagon would not allow you to do away with it so easily."

I just laughed and remarked I'd like to see Dagon stop me before flipping open Glories and Laments and settling down to read it. Thankfully, the location of the ruin was labelled which I scribbled onto my map – it was between Skingrad and Kvatch (a pain seeing as I had just come from there). The book couldn't tell me much about what I'd find inside, but I deduced there'd likely be a lot of traps and a lot of enemies that would love to have my head on a pike or over a fire.

By the time I was done, it was late and I chivvied Martin off to bed, tidying up the books myself. And remarkably, he was compliant for the first time since I had known him. It was just strange, but I didn't complain before retiring myself.

[O]

I aimed my bow ever so carefully, terrified that a missed shot would bring the horrible beast upon me, not to mention anything else that was lurking in the dark.

Zombies. It _had_ to be zombies. The literal worst thing on Nirn – why Sithis allowed such a thing to exist, I didn't know. There was no way that imps could even come close to being so awful as the reanimated corpses.

But I aimed the arrow carefully in the hopes I could kill the thing quickly and move on.

Goblins, skeletons and zombies inhabited the ancient halls of Miscarcand and I truly wished there was another way to obtain the stone. But if I wanted to kill Mankar Camoran and place Martin on the throne, then it had to be done. So I sucked it up and got on with it.

I loosed the arrow and, to my immense relief, downed the monstrosity in one shot. I didn't stop to retrieve the arrow, for fear that doing so would bring it back to life. An irrational fear, but a fear no less.

I imagined that, in their day, the Ayleid Ruins were a sight to behold and a thing of beauty, but today they were creepy and I wanted to get through as quickly as possible. So when I entered the final chamber and set my eyes on the stone, it was relief that flooded through me though not without a hint of caution. To have gotten so far, I couldn't have been the first to reach this point. Bones were littered all over the place so there had to be some final line of defence. Especially for the stone to just lie there.

But I stepped forwards and slid my hands beneath the stone to lift it. It was surprisingly light, considering its size. But then I heard the tell-tale moans of my least favourite thing in the world. But as they shuffled into the light of the stone, I could see there were countless numbers of them. My heart leapt into my throat so fast, I nearly didn't hear the creaking of bones as skeletal arms lifted an axe over my head.

I only just rolled out of the way in time as the axe cleaved the floor where I had been standing moments before. A skeletal mer in dusty, moth-eaten robes and a battered rusting crown stood before me and I realised that this was the reason no one left Miscarcand alive.

I swiped the undead mer with my sword but missed and the axe narrowly missed me again. The zombies were drawing closer and I fired a fire ball into the midst, trying to keep them at bay. The flames exploded and corpses were sent flying, but more only took their place. The mer swung at me again and the axe grazed my ear, it got so close. I ducked and, with a scream, swung the sword right at its middle, severing the torso from its legs. The body crumbled into dust, leaving the robes and crown to fall to the ground.

The zombies, having reached the top of the dais, stopped suddenly before crumpling and falling out of sight.

I breathed hard before shoving my sword into its sheath and scurrying to gather up the Great Welkynd Stone and place it into my pack with great care, for fear that it might break otherwise.

It had better be worth all of the trouble I had gone through to get it.

**To Be Continued…**


	11. The Battle for Bruma

During my return to Cloud Ruler, I had been hoping that Martin had deciphered the rest of the ritual so we could get a move on with retrieving the final item. The Great Welkynd Stone was beautiful but caused me to avoid towns and cities altogether. If the Mages Guild caught wind of its recovery, they would surely try to barter with me for such a rare and powerful object. And when I refused, they'd likely try to take it by force. And such a thing could not be risked now, not after all I had gone through to retrieve it and not with its final purpose so close now.

But when I entered the Great Hall, feeling happier than I had in a while, I wished Martin's discovery could have been delayed somewhat. For when I entered, I found myself witness to the first argument I had ever seen Martin and Jauffre have.

"With all due respect sire, the risk-!"

"I know the risk Jauffre, but it must be done!"

"The Countess will ever agree to this!"

"She will. She must!"

I felt my heart drop at the sight of Martin, _Martin_, in full armour. Tiber Septim's armour no less. This did not bode well.

I walked further into the hall, catching both Martin and Jauffre's attention.

"Aerrun, you're back," Jauffre greeted, looking surprisingly relieved. "You must speak to Martin immediately and convince him how foolish-!"

"Jauffre, it is the only way," Martin pressed and I knew that if Jauffre was this worried, I was right. The final item for the ritual was not going to be as simple as the others and I wasn't going to be able to pull it off alone as I usually did.

I pulled out the Great Welkynd Stone and placed it on Martin's usual table where it hummed quietly, glowing with bright light. "You've got the stone," he said, sounding pleased and giving me a light smile.

"I said I'd get it," I said, returning his smile with a defiant grin despite the sense of impending doom in the air. I glanced around quickly though Jena seemed to be off on duty, so I knew it came from the conversation I had overheard moments ago. I still didn't like just how cross and worried Jauffre had sounded, nor how desperate Martin seemed to be.

"Ha ha, yes you did Aerrun. I can count on you," he said as he ran one gloved finger over the crystal's glassy surface. It seemed to glow a little brighter at the touch and the humming grew a little louder too. "I never thought I'd see a Great Welkynd Stone! As beautiful as all the tales tell…"

He suddenly drew his hand away as though he had received an electric shock and gave me a sheepish look. "Of course, its beauty is a mask for its deadly power, like everything crafted by the Ayleids."

"So we've got Azura's Star, Talos's blood and the Great Welkynd Stone," I listed, counting them off on my fingers. "So we only need one more item. And I am almost scared to ask what it is." I gestured at the armour. "What's gotten Jauffre's sword in a knot? And why are you wearing that that old relic?" An indignant look crossed Jauffre's face at the comment.

"I should have seen it sooner. It's the counterpart to the Great Welkynd Stone, as the first two were the opposed powers of the daedra and the divines," Martin said carefully. He was definitely stalling and I knew I definitely would not like it.

"Gods be damned man, get to the point," I groaned, bracing myself for the worst.

"Okay, okay… Well, Welkynd Stones contain the concentrated power of mundus; their counterparts are Sigil Stones which hold open Oblivion Gates. So what we require is a Great Sigil Stone."

"Great Sigil Stone?" I had collected a lot of Sigil Stones over the past year or so and whilst they certainly contained their own power, it didn't seem to match the aura radiated by the Great Welkynd Stone. "What's the catch?"

"You're not going to like it. Jauffre doesn't like it-"

"And the Countess of Bruma certainly isn't going to like it," Jauffre interrupted, arms knotted across his chest so tightly, it looked like they might never unravel themselves. "Perhaps you should hurry up and tell her exactly what your plan is, Martin. The Blades are yours to command, as always. But I implore you to consider this choice most carefully."

"Great Sigil Stones are the anchors of Great Gates," Martin continued hesitantly, watching me carefully for my reaction. "The kind the Mythic Dawn opened at Kvatch. The kind of Gate they want to open here to destroy Bruma."

A long silence filled the air as I processed exactly what Martin had just told me. A Great Sigil Stone was the anchor to the Great Gate. The only way to obtain the Great Sigil Stone was to enter a Great Gate, like the one at Kvatch. The Mythic Dawn wanted to open such a Gate at Bruma, to destroy the city, Cloud Ruler Temple and Martin. And if we wanted the Amulet of Kings… Then was he saying…

It clicked.

"WHAT THE HELL MARTIN?!"

"I told you that you weren't going to like it," he winced.

"No, you were right. I _don't_ like it," I snapped furiously. "_Letting_ them open that _thing_! You were at Kvatch, you saw what that Gate did!"

"You're right. I _was _at Kvatch. I saw the terrible power of the Daedric Siege Engine," he replied darkly. "The risk is great, I know. But we have no other choice. The only way to retrieve the Amulet of Kings is to allow the Mythic Dawn to proceed with their plan to attack Bruma."

I scowled and huffed, pacing up and down the hall, trying to see the reason in the plan. But I failed quite miserably – it just seemed like pure suicide. And I had been on so many missions that near guaranteed death, but this was the worst by far. And to let the Mythic Dawn get so close to the city and the temple… It was a huge risk and if it failed, then all of Nirn could be lost to the Mythic Dawn and Mehrunes Dagon. But that was only if they killed Martin…

I came to a stop and sighed. "Well, at least you'll be safe here."

"No."

"_Martin_!"

"I will lead the defence of Bruma myself. If I am to be Emperor, then its time I started acting like it," he said forcefully, not giving ground on the matter. But I wasn't backing down either.

"No, it's too risky. Let _me_ lead the battle. Or Jauffre, or Steffan, _anyone_," I implored desperately. My sloppiness cost one Septim his life, I couldn't let it happen again. True, I had little experience in battle, but Martin had even less. Perils like this had been my whole life for fourteen years and there were far more on hand who had the experience to lead men.

But it seemed Martin really wasn't letting this go. He placed his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look right at him. "Do you remember when we first met in Kvatch? Didn't you tell me I was the Emperor's son before running off to take part in a battle that wasn't yours to fight?"

"Something like that. And didn't you tell me later that you wanted no part in the gods' plan?"

"True, I did. And to be honest, I'm still not sure if there _is_ a divine plan. But I've come to realise that it doesn't matter. What matters is that we act and do what is right in the face of evil. That's what you did at Kvatch. It wasn't the gods that saved us, it was _you_. And don't forget what you told me."

I frowned, trying to think back to that day. "You told me that you had no recollection of anything, including the gods. Yet there you were anyway, regardless of whether or not there was a plan – you said that yourself. Were you an agent of the gods? I don't know, but I do know that it is my turn to act."

I opened my mouth, trying to come up with an argument, but he had me in a corner. I had said those things and they were true. Gods or no, I had gone to Kvatch and stopped the Gate where no one else could. I didn't know if the gods had influenced me down that path, but I had followed it regardless.

Finally, I bowed my head and conceded, though bitterly. "As you command."

"Please Aerrun. I need your judgement, not your obedience," he said gently, lifting my chin so I looked back up at him. "I explain myself to you so that you may understand. And so that you may explain to the Countess of Bruma."

"I- What? Me? Martin I can't-!"

"You gathered the forces of the other Counts," he cut over, a knowing look in his eyes. "It was you who managed to gather the protection that Bruma needs. She _will_ listen to you, Aerrun."

"I… Fine, fine I'll do it," I grunted.

"Thank you. Have her meet me in the Chapel of Talos for a war council. Just be warned, she won't be as easy to convince as you."

As easy as me? Ha! I still wasn't fully convinced. But it seemed that this was indeed the only way to obtain the Stone so I could retrieve the Amulet from Mankar Camoran.

I nodded, gave Jauffre a look that conveyed my own doubts and worries about the plan, before turning to leave for Bruma. I'd need all the luck in the world to convince Countess Carvain that this was the only valid course of action.

[O]

"I need to speak with the Countess immediately," I expressed urgently for what felt like the thousandth time. "It's an emergency!"

"And I have told you several times madam. I'm afraid Countess Carvain isn't available for an audience right now."

"Then make her available! It's a matter of life and death!"

I had chosen an inopportune time to go to the castle to speak with the Countess. It was nearly nine when I arrived and the Countess had retired to her quarters for the evening, leaving me to deal with her incredibly unhelpful steward who seemed on the verge of calling the guards to throw me out. I hoped he did – the guards knew me and could vouch that whatever mission I was on was likely to be important.

"Life or death, the Countess is not available. Come back in the morning when the Lady is ready to speak."

"There's no time to wait until morning!" I groaned.

"Well I'm afraid that is your only choice lest I have you spend that time in the castle dungeon!"

"Is there a problem?" I sighed with relief to see Captain Burd approaching. After our adventure into Oblivion, Burd and I knew one another quite well and I knew if anyone could help me right now, it was him.

"Ah Captain. This woman is causing a fuss. She insists on speaking to Countess Carvain at this very moment despite-!"

"Then fetch the Countess," Burd snapped, glaring at the steward. "Do you know who this woman is? She is the Hero of Kvatch and you'd do well to afford her the proper respect."

"Kvatch…? You are-!" The steward bowed deeply to me. "My deepest apologies. I had no idea that you were the Hero of Kvatch, madam. The Countess has expressed a wish to meet you for some time. I shall retrieve her immediately."

And with that, the weedy man scuttled away as fast as possible. I blinked in surprise, shocked with the sudden change in countenance before looking around at Burd who was grinning.

"Burd, you are a life saver," I sighed, grinning. "I was this close to throttling him."

"You're welcome Aerrun. You've become something of a celebrity around here and the Countess has been eager to meet the woman who helped us close that damned Gate. And gathered us so many reinforcements. Whatever you need, Bruma will do whatever it can to help. You only need to ask." He gave me a wink, before departing for the barracks and I proceeded into the throne room.

I wasn't made to wait long when the Countess appeared at the top of the stairs and made her way down swiftly.

She was younger than I expected, certainly younger than the other Counts I had met and maybe only a few years older than myself. Her coppery-blonde hair was twisted into an elegant pony tail down her back and she wore a dark blue dress that was trimmed with fur and silver beads adorning the neckline. Nordic knots were stitched in bright silver thread down the skirt and gold hemmed the sleeves.

"So you are the Hero of Kvatch I've heard so much about? A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am Countess Narina Carvain," she greeted, smiling though not disingenuously. She did not seem bothered in the slightest to have been bothered so late in the evening. "What news from Cloud Ruler Temple?"

"I come on behalf of Martin Septim, the last heir of the late Uriel Septim mi'lady." My throat felt horribly dry and I prayed that it went undetected. The Countess said nothing and gave no indication of an opinion, so I went on. "Several months ago, our enemy, the Mythic Dawn, stole the Amulet of Kings from the possession of the Blades. Our only hope to stop the Oblivion Crisis is to regain the Amulet of Kings from the Mythic Dawn's leader, Mankar Camoran and use it to relight the Dragonfires."

Still she said nothing, not even asking if we knew where to locate the Amulet or what this had to do with her. "The Amulet lies in Camoran's own realm, known as Paradise. In order to open a portal to go there, we must retrieve a Great Sigil Stone which acts as the anchor pin to a Great Gate, the kind of Gate that destroyed Kvatch… In other words, the gates must be allowed to continue opening so that I can retrieve the stone."

I finished lamely and for a long few minutes, the Countess said nothing. Before though, she had been passive. Now she looked stunned by my audacity to even suggest such a thing. I knew this was insane and I felt insane to say any of it, as I did every time I offered to leap into an Oblivion Gate.

But then again, I always proved myself right in the end. I hoped the Countess Carvain knew that and gave me the chance to do so.

"I know it sounds… Desperate," I continued delicately. "But Martin truly believes it is the only way in order to retrieve the Amulet and defeat Mehrunes Dagon."

"A desperate plan indeed," the Countess finally said, rubbing her temples as Jauffre did when under stress. "And this… Prince? Emperor? Martin would risk my whole city to gain a Great Sigil Stone?"

"He wouldn't suggest it if he thought there was another way. If we want to stop the daedra, we need the Amulet."

"This is the _only_ way to stop the daedra? I must confess, you are the first to speak of victory over the daedra," she said with a sigh, giving me a wearisome look. "This whole war has seemed hopeless to me, but what else was there to do but wait and see if a hero would arise to save us?"

Then, her expression turned suddenly curious, with a slight smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes which surprised me. "And now it seems there is an heir to the throne after all, hidden at Cloud Ruler Temple… And perhaps a hero as well?"

"Martin awaits you at the Chapel of Talos," I said flatly.

"You avoid answering my question," she pointed out, her curious smile broadening slightly as she stood. "Very well, do not think I doubt you. The rulers of Bruma have long had dealings with Cloud Ruler Temple. We know whom they serve. I will meet Martin at the Chapel. When all is ready, I will order my men to stop closing the Gate and prepare for battle."

I bowed again. "Thank you mi'lady." But Countess Carvain simply waved an airy hand as she led the way out of the castle, with myself in tow.

"Think nothing of it. All I ask in exchange is that you will one day share your stories with me. I have heard the rumours and are eager to learn is they are true."

"According to your steward, we will have to make an appointment," I remarked with a laugh.

[O]

The Chapel was not unlike the one in Kvatch, except it was fully intact and bore a Shrine to Talos rather than Akatosh. In the centre of the room, at the shrine was Martin, Jauffre and a handful of Blades, including Baurus and Jena. I caught their eye and they gave me a quick smile. Once myself, the Countess and Captain Burd drew level with the party, I slipped into their ranks until Jauffre shifted me into place at Martin's shoulder.

"Your Majesty," Countess Carvain said with a polite curtsey. "I am Narina Carvain, Countess of Bruma, at your service."

I could feel Martin tense up beside me at the sight of a Countess giving him such a greeting. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined such an honour. But then again, neither had I.

"There is no need for formality at this time. I am not Emperor yet." I rolled my eyes and threw Baurus a knowing look, which he returned. Some things never really changed, it seemed. "Thank you for coming. I know I am asking for a great deal of trust. But this is the only way, else I would not suggest it."

"Your Champion here has already explained the situation to me. I have agreed to it. We will not win this war through caution," she replied briskly. Once again, her expression was unreadable making it difficult to tell exactly what she was thinking. But nonetheless, Martin inclined his head in gratitude.

"You have a rare gift, to know when desperation is the path of wisdom. I will do everything in my power to defend your city, my Lady."

"If Bruma falls, the Empire falls with it. So be it." The Countess turned to me, a slight smile that more resembled a grimace on her face. "I am ready for battle when you are, Champion. What say you?"

I felt all eyes on me and I screwed up every bit of courage and faith I had in Martin, the Blades and the men of Cyrodiil. It felt like Kvatch all over again, preparing to dive into the unknown and the deadly. And like before, I gave my best grin and said defiantly: "Let's do it."

Carvain nodded approvingly. "Very good. Burd, prepare your men for battle!"

[O]

Bruma was in uproar that night, guards running left and right, gathering weapons and armour, preparing for battle and trying to herd the town's people towards the castle in the event that the walls could not be held against the daedra, but they were dead set on seeing the heir of the Septim throne and giving the men their support.

I stopped in North Winds to have any damages from Miscarcand repaired and it was the first time since I had met her that Skjorta didn't offer me a drink. Instead, she hugged me tightly and wished me the best of luck. I hadn't eaten since returning but I didn't want to weigh myself down in anyway whatsoever, so I refused any offers of food made to me. I left any of my unnecessary gear in the shop for safe keeping, taking only my sword, bow, a quiver of arrows and the Blade of Woe.

Lucien had said to use it well and that was precisely what I was going to do.

Jauffre had ordered the Blades down from the temple and was helping Steffan, Burd and the other captains arrange the men into rank to march into battle. Local warriors and the Fighter's Guild arrived, as did a handful of members of the Mages Guild and all filed into place to face the hordes of Oblivion.

I admired their courage to face such an evil, where others would rather run for cover. But then again, this was Bruma. Like the people of Skyrim, the people here were hardy and tough, so a battle to protect their home and its people was a chance for them to prove it.

When I was fully prepared, dawn was on the approach and the horizon tinted with the first traces of sun. I found Martin at the forefront of the legion of men, calmer than I had expected him to be. A Khajiit scout had returned and reported that an Oblivion Gate had opened outside of the city, though nothing had come out yet. It seemed Dagon had seen our challenge and was waiting to strike.

"You did well," he remarked, looking upon the mass of people waiting to march upon the Gate. "We stand a good chance of victory you know."

"You say that, but we have no idea what will come out of those Gates. I doubt Dagon will send a bunch of lowly scamps and dremora, not when you're so exposed like this," I muttered.

"I will be fine, Aerrun," Martin assured. "You just focus on retrieving the Stone."

I swallowed hard and nodded as Jauffre approached. "Your Highness. We are ready when you are."

"Are you ready Aerrun?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

And we proceeded down the hill, myself at Martin's side, Jauffre, Steffan and the captains of the guards just behind, then the ranks of men and mages behind. The citizens of Bruma lined the streets, the guards having failed to get them to go to the castle. At first, the air was silent except for the clanking of armour and mass of footfalls from the legion of people. Even the birds weren't singing.

Then a single voice, a woman's voice cried out: "Hail Martin Septim!" Suddenly, a unified roar of hope and prayer for our success in battle erupted from the men, women and children who remained behind.

The voices cheered for Martin, for the Blades, for the guards, for _me_. As we marched, I could have sworn I spotted Salhei in the crowd, but when I looked again he was gone. Perhaps it was my nerves acting up – I had promised to come back when it was all over. If I failed, there was no guarantee I'd ever see him again.

But if anything, it steeled my determination to succeed where others would fail, as I always did. No one entered an Oblivion Gate and returned, until I did. No one returned from Sancre Tor, until I did. No one survived the undead of Miscarcand, until I did. If I could do those things, I could brave the Great Gate and escape alive.

But my concern was with Martin. He was vulnerable on the field and protecting him would be impossible the moment I had to dive into the Gate. I had to put my faith in the Blades to keep him safe and I knew they'd lay their lives down if it meant protecting their Emperor. And that worried me.

The Oblivion Gate lay a short distance from the city and Jauffre, Burd and Steffan got to work organising everyone and making sure we were all where we needed to be. I stood before the men with Martin and the captains until all was ready.

Still nothing came forth from the Gate which was concerning. Finally, all was ready and Martin stepped forward with confidence and surety I had never seen in him until now.

"Soldiers of Cyrodiil, the Empire will stand or fall based on what we do today. Will we let the daedra do to Bruma, what they did to Kvatch? Will we let them burn our homes? Will we let them kill our families? No. We make our stand, here, today, for all of Cyrodiil! We must hold fast until the Hero of Kvatch can destroy their Great Gate. We must kill whatever comes out of that Gate."

I stared in amazement at the man before me, as he strode before the men. This was not the broken man I had met in Kvatch, nor the awkward, timid speech he had made at Cloud Ruler Temple. This was a man with purpose and determination, with the voice to lead an army. This man was an Emperor.

Martin drew his sword, holding it high over his head in a rallying display of power. "Soldiers of Cyrodiil! Do you stand with me?"

There was a roar of agreement and then came the first daedra and its lightning bolt was aimed straight at Martin!

I leapt forward, conjuring a ward between Martin and the lightning, repelling it. The soldiers surged forwards as the daedra began to pour out and the Battle for Bruma began.

I remained with Martin for as long as possible, cutting down and burning daedra left and right. And it seemed Martin had been training since I had been away – his sword work was natural and not at all clumsy as he sliced a spider daedra clean in two.

I heard a rumbling sound and looked up to see a second Oblivion Gate appear, the vortex of fire that led to Oblivion pouring out a fresh wave of daedra. The next regiment of men moved in to take the place of the first wave of men, as Jauffre had planned.

Martin, Baurus and I remained on the field as the next wave of men charged forwards, the daedra meeting them in the middle. Daedra of all varieties, scamps, atronachs, dremora, clannfear, spiders and snakes appeared, some I was all too well acquainted with and others I had never even seen before. But I remained by Martin's side as Baurus was nearby, ready to take over for me once the Great Gate opened.

Then the third Gate materialised and the men exchanged again with those who had been waiting on the hill. Fresh with vigour, they surged forwards with a fierce battle cry, fending off the monsters of Oblivion as they poured from the Gate.

And then there was a Great Gate. It was less of a rumble and more of an earthquake, as the very world itself shook as the two giant spires sprang out of the ground. I had seen similar at Kvatch and the sheer enormity had been unbelievable then. But as the fiery portal opened between them, the power of the Great Gate became apparent and for a moment, I could do nothing but stare at the monstrosity.

"Aer! Go!" Baurus yelled, rushing to Martin's side and shoving me forwards, knocking me from my stupor. I gathered myself swiftly and charged for the portal with a scream. I leapt forwards and felt the familiar sensation of heat and weightlessness as I entered Oblivion.

[O]

I landed on the other side and felt my heart stop momentarily. Before me stood four towers that led to the citadel where the Great Sigil Stone would be, war gates standing open between them. And crawling forwards right towards the portal was the Daedric Siege Engine, the same horror that destroyed Kvatch.

The sheer scale was enough to make me want to run and never go back, but I had a mission to complete and not much time to do it. I had to stop the Gate before the machine could destroy Bruma. None of the daedra around the war engine had spotted me yet and I decided that stealth was my best option this time. I slipped into the shadows of the war gate, slipping past the spider daedra standing guard.

I looked around at the four towers and quickly figured out I'd need to solve their puzzle in order to proceed further. So I slipped into the closest tower and found myself in a familiar setting. The corpse masher, set and ready to go with a pair of scamps removing quite the grizzly sight from one of the spikes.

They squeaked and nattered in their own language before one ran towards a lever that set the masher into motion. I waited until the last second, before running to jump on. I hauled myself up onto the platform and, thankfully, they didn't seem to have seen me at all. Once the device stopped, I climbed off and proceeded through the door leading out of the tower.

I found myself standing on a narrow bridge that led to the next tower… Except for a large portion missing in the middle. I narrowed my eyes, trying to calculate the distance. Now was hardly the time for unnecessary risks, but if I wanted that stone as quickly as possible, then risks would need to be taken.

Suddenly, a huge fireball erupted from the Siege Engine and was head straight at me! I managed to flatten myself against the tower door and felt the heat of the flames a little too close for comfort – it was at times like this, I really wished I had inherited the dunmer's fire resistance from my father.

But it was too late to curse such bad fortune, the daedra had spotted me and the engine was readying another attack. I placed one foot on the door, bending my knees, ready for the sprint.

There was another blast as another fire ball flew at me and I went for it. I sprinted full speed for the end of the bridge. I ignored the daedra and the engine, focusing on what my mother had once taught me – _push hard and never look down. Focus only on your destination._

I reached the edge of the bridge and I bent my knees all the way, leaping the gap. I fell slightly short of the edge and caught it in my mere finger tips. I hauled myself up and kept running, a stray fire ball streaking before me and forcing me to duck.

I threw myself through the door of the next tower. I raced up, knowing it was only a matter of time before more daedra arrived to try and stop me. A dremora guarded this tower too, along with a pair of spider daedra. I dispatched them quickly, sustaining a few scratches in the process before I ran for the huge mechanism on the wall.

I yanked the lever down and heard a huge grinding sound, one I had heard in the Cheydinhal Gate.

The way forward had opened then. I ran down the tower's curving slope to where the corpse masher was waiting. I peered down through one of the holes and spied only a lone scamp. This would be easy.

There was a clicking sound and the platform began to sink down to the ground and I decided a bow would be more than efficient. I nocked the arrow, ready to fire. Once the scamp was in sight, I fired and killed it instantly. I didn't bother to retrieve the arrow, knowing there was little time to do so.

Once outside of the tower, I found myself standing right before the citadel. The siege engine was crawling ever closer to the portal now and I knew there was little time left – I just prayed this Sigil Keep would be the same as all the others.

[O]

I powered through the tower, fast and hard and avoided getting into too many fights. I arrived in the Sigil Chamber, ragged and having to pause for breath. Fortunately for me, I spied a blood fountain just up ahead. I had been cautious of such things before, but after witnessing a dremora use one to regain strength and curiosity taught me that I could do the same. I drank the dark red liquid and felt my wounds close and my stamina picking up again.

After a few moments, I felt reasonably stronger, so I pushed on into the final chamber. And I was incredibly grateful for the blood fountain.

Daedra swarmed the room and I knew immediately, there were too many for me to handle. If I powered through and ran fast enough, I could grab the stone and be out before they could rip me to shreds. It was risky but this whole plan had been shaky from the beginning.

So I ran, sword and dagger in my hands as I charged the daedra and took them by surprise. I reached the top platform before they could organise to attack and by then I ran straight for the stone. It was much larger than any other Sigil Stone, roughly the same size as the Great Welkynd Stone and gave off the same aura.

I sheathed my weapons and placed my hands on the surface. The stone's heat scorched my palms but I held fast and tugged on it as hard as possible, pulling it loose.

Any other stone let out a blast. This one let out an eruption of fire and heat and I was sent flying into the wall of the chamber, the oncoming daedra being sent flying as well. Stray debris slammed into my jaw, causing an explosion of pain as stars filled my eyes and I felt the iron taste of blood in my mouth.

Flames unlike any I had ever seen consumed my vision and I thought for a moment I was on fire and I was going to die. The unearthly shrieks of the daedra filled my ears and my senses were consumed as I felt myself falling, falling, falling…

[O]

When I felt the ground again, it was hard and cold against the raw burns of my skin. My armour was somehow intact, but my flesh was on fire but the cold air of Bruma soothed them slightly. For a moment, I thought I was safe. Until I heard a yell from Baurus and a sudden creaking made me look up slowly.

The Daedric Siege Engine had made it partway through the Gate and now with nothing to support it, it was falling and I was right in its path!

I scrambled to my feet, the Great Sigil Stone in my arms as I ran forward, but I tripped and sprawled onto the ground. A single plate of metal fell from the machine and landed on my left leg. I let out a scream of pain and desperately tried to free myself to no avail. I was trapped.

I looked up at the huge hulking form as it fell closer and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying to be spared. And I was.

The machine fell to pieces and most of the debris somehow missed me entirely, even hovering above my head. I stared, stunned and confused as the wreckage surrounded me when it clearly should have fallen and killed me. It didn't make sense until I realised the air around me was wavering slightly; it was a ward. Where had that come from?

"Aerrun? Aerrun!"

"Where is she?"

"Spread out, see if you can't find her!"

"Aer, say something!"

"Aerrun!"

Frightened voices cried. Voices I knew well; Martin, Baurus, Jena and Steffan. I tried to call out to them but I couldn't speak through the mouthful of blood. I spat out the crimson liquid and listened for more voices. These were strangers to me.

"We cast a ward," one of them called. "I'm almost certain it shielded her."

"Aerrun! Aerrun, where are you?" Martin cried desperately. I heard the scraping of plates as several pairs of hands searched through the wreckage.

"'Artin," I managed to slur, my jaw in an awful amount of pain to the point I was sure it was probably broken. "'Ere!"

"Aerrun! Don't worry, I'm coming!" The scraping grew louder as Martin called for the others to help him. I heard an ominous creak overhead and something behind me fell. How long could the ward last under such strain?

Shafts of bright, winter sunlight hit my face, blinding me temporarily.

"Aerrun!" I squinted at the source of the voice and soon they came into focus.

Martin was at the forefront of the group, a bruise developing on his cheek and stray blood splattered down his front, though he was largely intact. Baurus was cradling his right hand, which looked like it could be broken and Jena had a long gash down her cheek. Steffan, grimy and bloody, was very much in one piece and beaming. The rest of the Blades were just behind, peering into the dark hole.

The plan had worked. We had won. But I didn't even think about it until a roar of victory filled my ears and I found myself dragged into a tearful Martin's arms. My leg was still trapped, though a mage bustled through and, with a complicated hand movement, caused the plate to disintergrate into nothing, freeing me.

"You did it Aerrun!" Martin cried as he pulled me out of the wreckage. "You did it!"

"BLOODY FUCKING KNEW IT!" Baurus was screaming, throwing his good arm around me and Martin, followed by Jena, Steffan and the rest of the Blades.

They dragged me back to my feet, though I nearly collapsed again as a searing pain erupted all the way up my left leg. From the outside, I couldn't see anything wrong but given all that had just happened, it was probably broken.

I found my hands relieved of the stone by Martin and I was shepherded away back to the Chapel of Talos to be treated with the other casualties.

A healer inspected my jaw and reported it was indeed broken, though could be repaired easily enough. My leg was another matter. Surprisingly, there were no broken bones or surface wounds, yet I could barely place any weight on the leg at all. The healer hypothesised there was another problem that we couldn't see and he'd have to look into it.

He roughly shoved the bones of my jaw back into alignment, ignoring my hiss of pain before using a powerful healing spell. I felt the bones merge together again and fuse painfully though when it was over, it felt completely normal aside from the numbness.

In the meantime, nothing could be done for my leg, aside from healing potions and advising I rest it for a while before trying to walk again. I just hoped I would be able to walk again – if I couldn't, how could I retrieve the Amulet of Kings? I had come too far to let someone else carry out the deed now.

But I thanked the healer regardless and allowed Martin to help me hobble slowly back to Cloud Ruler Temple.

It wasn't until we reached the courtyard did I realise that I hadn't seen Jauffre anywhere. I asked Martin and he came to a halt, forcing me to stop too. His face was dark, eyes dull with sadness and regret whereas before they were bright with happiness and relief. My insides coiled at the change in expression.

"Martin… Where's Jauffre?" I asked again, more urgently than before.

"He didn't make it… A dremora. It went for me and he took the blow… The old fox managed to kill it before he succumbed to his wounds…" He looked away. "I tried to save him but…"

I stared, unable to comprehend. It felt like I had just been clubbed over the head by a troll, as dazed as I was.

Jauffre was dead. But… No that wasn't right. Jauffre was too clever, too tough and too stubborn to just die like that. I had seen him spar with the younger Blades and I learnt quickly that appearances were always deceiving. He was a hurricane and he was too strong to lose to a pathetic dremora.

I stared at Martin, silently pleading with him to tell me it wasn't true, wanting him to grin and say 'Gotcha!' But he didn't. He stared at the floor and I felt my eyes became wet.

Martin slowly put an arm around my shoulders as he led me into the barracks to rest.

**To Be Continued…**

**AN: Okay, I'm all caught up on the chapters I've written so far. Chapter 12 is in the works right now :) **

**Thank you to everyone who has favourite, followed and reviewed the story so far. I hope you enjoy these new chapters and the ones to come.**


	12. Jauffre's Farewell

I sat alone in the darkened barracks, staring down at the Blade of Woe as I wiped it clean of the non-existent blood. In truth, I had cleaned my weapons at least ten times over but I needed the distraction. If anything to stop me from charging off to find Mankar Camoran this very second on my bad leg.

Cloud Ruler Temple was dark and silent which had nothing to do with the extinguished candles and it being the middle of the night.

No, tonight was a night of mourning for the Blades. For our Grandmaster had passed on to the next world – Aetherius, the Void, Sovngarde… So many names for the same thing. Death was inevitable, as the Emperor had once said, but I thought of the ghosts of Sancre Tor and the zombies of Miscarcand and I wondered; what determined those who moved on and those who didn't?

"Aerrun. It's time."

I set the Blade of Woe to one side and took the proffered hand. Martin hauled me to my feet, placing one arm around my waist to help me walk out into the courtyard where the funeral was to take place.

Hours had passed since the end of the Battle of Bruma and I just wanted to get things over and done with. I just wanted to kill Mankar Camoran right now but with my leg as it was, it would mean instant death. So I had to occupy myself a best I could in the meantime, even if it meant sitting still and cleaning my weapons.

The Blades were gathered in a circle surrounding the funeral pyre. Logs had been stacked systematically, kindling packed inside to help it burn and Jauffre lay on top. He was concealed from sight with a white cloth bearing the insignia of the Blades (a great, golden dragon wrapped around a sword). His sword had been hung in the halls of the Blades, alongside those of his predecessors where it would be honoured for all eternity.

A space was made in the circle to allow myself and Martin to stand in place before the pyre. Baurus to Martin's left, Jena to my right. No one was crying or showing much emotion, they kept their faces straight and firm, though inside the pain was near unbearable. I knew it felt that way to me.

Now that everyone was present, Steffan, Achille, Arcturus, Baragon and Pelagius stepped out of the circle. Each held a torch over his head, ready to light the pyre. They took slow steps forwards, chanting lowly an ancient prayer of the Blades to honour Jauffre and all of the Blades that came before, to wish him well in his journey to the afterlife, to express our grief and to ask for guidance in such a troubled time. We all echoed the veterans as they went.

Slowly, as the torches were placed into the pyre, the volume of the voices increased and grew louder, forming a single unified voice of mourning.

The flames slowly began to crawl up the pyre, licking the Grandmaster's body as they devoured him. The smoke climbed high into the sky, the ashes beginning to follow as the wind picked up. Martin's grip on my hand tightened.

"Just… Don't let go," he whispered. "Please…"

I squeezed his hand tightly in return. "I won't."

I turned my attention back to the sight before me as the pyre turned into a pillar of fire, glowing brightly in the dark of the night, like a glowing sun before us. The ashes swirled higher and higher into the air. It was impossible to believe those little grey flakes swirling into the air had once been one of the greatest men I had ever met.

He was going.

Going.

Gone.

[O]

I had no idea of the time, though it was long past midnight. I was out on the battlements, feet dangling over the edge as I stared up at the sky. Somewhere, in the darkness, Jauffre was watching. And I wasn't sure if that was driving me onwards or making me want to turn tail and run.

I wanted to kill Mankar Camoran. That was for sure. It was because of him that so many people died – the Emperor, Farwil, Jauffre and all the others whose names I couldn't put to faces. If I killed Camoran, then I could stop him before anyone else had to die.

But what about after that? I would see Martin placed on the throne. I had to, I had sworn to. But then after that… Was I really prepared to return to the Dark Brotherhood? After all that had transpired over the past year?

I thought of Schemer, who clung to me so desperately when I left. Gogron, who would have hugged me if Ocheeva had let him. Salhei, who had expected to see me when he returned from his contract…

They were my family, but by now, I had had enough of death and misery. And returning to the Dark Brotherhood meant causing just that. Knowing now, what it was like to lose the people around you and being unable to stop it, could I really go back to that life?

"Do you mind if I join you?" It was Martin.

"Go ahead." I had wanted to be alone, but Martin made things a little more bearable somehow. I doubted I could have remained so calm at the funeral if he hadn't had been there, keeping a firm grip on my hand and keeping me grounded in reality. I couldn't afford to fall over the edge again like I had when I murdered Grieves and somehow, Martin made sure I didn't.

So he sat beside me, looking out over Bruma.

For a few minutes we didn't speak.

"You know, they're calling you the Saviour of Bruma," Martin remarked, trying to break the tension.

"I heard."

"Countess Carvain even commissioned a statue in your honour."

"Uh huh."

I tried to sound neutral, but it was difficult. How could they call me a saviour if I couldn't actually protect anyone? If anything, the statue would just be a horrible reminder of my failure to retrieve the Amulet of Kings the first time around. A few weeks ago, I would have taken it in stride, I might have even rubbed it in Baurus' face. But now I wished it never even existed.

If I had known escaping the Imperial Prison meant enduring all of this, I might have just stayed down there and endured that dunmer's taunting. Why the gods had to choose me for this, I didn't know? Couldn't they have left me to devolve into madness and leave me be?

"Aerrun," Martin said softly, placing a hand to my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I said bluntly. "I wish I was, but I don't think I am."

"Do you remember the night that a piece of your memory came back? You were about to jump off of the battlements."

"I remember," I sighed, looking at how far the ground was now.

"I thought you were trying to kill yourself. And it was all my fault."

"I- Wait, what?!" I looked up sharply, brow furrowing. I had been in the most childish of behaviours that evening, even jovial compared to my recent behaviour. "What made you think that?"

Martin sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back out over Bruma.

"This whole time, you've had no recollection of your past apart from a tiny fragment. You must be desperate to learn more about yourself, yet here I am, constantly asking you to risk your life, to go to more and more dangerous places all the while constantly reminding you what's at stake if you were to fail," he said darkly.

"Now Martin-"

"And when you came back to the temple after gathering aid for Bruma, you were behaving so strangely... It was then I seriously started to think that might have been because of me, because I was pushing you too hard, putting too much pressure on you. Asking too much, when you knew next to nothing about yourself. I..."

"Martin stop," I said sternly, placing a hand to his arm. "I told you back then, didn't I? I was going to jump because I knew I could make it. Even without that memory, I knew I could make the jump. It was nothing to do with you."

"But even now Aerrun!" He snapped. "Even now, I'm asking you to go to the most dangerous place in the world! And when you're injured, at that!"

"It'll be fine Martin," I assured. "I just need to rest it a while. Like the healer said. And don't you understand, my memory doesn't matter anymore. What will it mean if Mehrunes Dagon destroys us all?"

"It matters to me and it should matter to you!" I flinched, somewhat startled at his intensity. "I want you to get your memory back so you can remember things. Your father, your friend Salhei. You clearly loved them a lot and I want you to be able to remember that. Don't you want to remember times when you were happy?"

I stared at him, gobsmacked. He was being utterly sincere, I could see it in his eyes. Did my happiness, my ability to remember, really mean so much to him? I looked away quickly, twisting Farwil's ring tightly around my finger. If only he knew just how few genuinely happy memories I had.

I couldn't name many occasions after my eleventh year that were particularly happy - before my parents' murders I had been content and perhaps the happiest I had been in my life. But since then, those moments were few and far between.

"There aren't a lot of times I've been happy," I muttered. "Not since ma and pa died."

"I- what?" It was Martin's turn to be gobsmacked as I stood up, one hand on the wooden beam beside me as I looked up at the sky.

It was a starless night, though the moon was whole and round. It reminded me of that night, beneath the full moon as the headsman's axe was raised and brought down. Who would have thought one action would change my whole life?

"When I was about eleven years old, a commander in the Imperial Legion, Augustus Grieves, ordered the execution of my parents on suspicion of being associated with the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild. He never had any solid proof, but he didn't care. He also didn't care when he forced me to watch as the Imperial Headsman hacked their heads from their bodies."

"Aerrun, does this mean...?"

"Yes. It's back. All of it."

There was a heavy silence as the words hung in the air and the implications began to sink in and Martin got to his feet, eying me, looking for answers.

"When was this? In the Gate?"

"Months ago. Back when I returned with Azura's Star."

"Why didn't you ever-?!"

"Because you'd have hated me Martin!" I snapped, turning on him. "What, you really think my little tale of woe ended there? Oh no, it gets even better. When we were thirteen, Salhei and I got mixed in with the Thieves Guild. A bosmer promised us a cut of the spoils if we helped him on a heist. Instead, he humiliated me and kept the spoils for himself. So do you know what I did?"

Martin shook his head slowly.

"I killed him. And I liked it," I said viciously. "And one night, who should come knocking? A Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. Don't you see Martin, I'm not some hero like everyone thinks. I'm not a saviour and I shouldn't be your champion. I'm an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood!"

There was a moment of stunned silence as Martin stared, wide eyed.

"Aerrun-" He croaked, disbelief touching his voice.

"And then, when I was seventeen, Grieves found our sanctuary and had it burnt to the ground. Only me, Salhei and one other escaped with our lives. The rest were cut down or burnt to death! Salhei and I escaped to Cyrodiil and were accepted into a sanctuary in Cheydinhal - you see, Indarys knew who I was because I'm one of the people threatening him. He sent more men because he was afraid the Brotherhood might kill him if he refused me."

"Aerrun, please just-"

"No, I won't stop!" I snarled, angry tears burning in my eyes though I refused to let a single one fall. "You wanted me to get my memories back Martin. Well they're back and I wish they'd go away. One year ago, a contract was put out on Grieves' head. I leapt at the chance to finally get my revenge on that bastard. It was all because of him that I became what I am. So I killed him and I made him wish he had never been born. I tortured him for hours and laughed as I went."

I took a deep shuddering breath as I remembered it. Blood all down my front. Grieves torn open, mutilated and reduced to little more than ribbons of bone and flesh. And I just laughed the whole time.

"It drove me mad for a while. When the guards caught me, he was already dead... He was dead long before they caught me. I was thrown in prison and I awoke the next morning with no memory at all. So you see Martin, I'm no hero. I'm not happy. I'm just a cold blooded murderer."

I glowered at him, daring him to fight back. To call me a monster. To react with pure disgust and turn me away. I wanted him to do it, the anger was burning hot in my core like a volcano.

But a warm calloused hand touched my face, forcing me to look straight into those startlingly blue eyes. They were burning bright with determination and were focuses intensely on my face.

"You think you're just a murderer... But you're so much more than you realise," he said softly. I blinked, confused, before glaring at him.

"What the hell are you talking about? Didn't you hear a single word I just said?" I hissed. "I tortured and murdered a man-!"

"Because he murdered your parents and the closest thing you had to a family," Martin interrupted angrily. "I can't say I entirely agree with it, but I can understand why you did it. And even if you did do those things, it doesn't mean anything."

"I-!"

"The woman standing in front of me, right this second, is the woman who willingly jumped into the depths of Oblivion just to rescue one lowly priest! That same woman has risked her life time and time again, not for her own benefit, but for the good of others and all of Tamriel." He gave me a funny sort of half smirk. "Are you honestly telling me that the woman who murdered that Commander would have done those things?"

I opened my mouth to retaliate, then stopped because he was right about that.

A year ago, I would never have dreamt of sticking my neck out for a complete stranger, unless it was on a contract. The old me would have dumped that Amulet with Baurus and then ran for freedom as fast as possible before anyone could stop me.

The old me never would have met Martin Septim.

I wanted to slap him around the face, for wearing that triumphant look in that moment, but another part of me wanted to slap myself for even considering it.

"You see Aerrun. You're not the monster you think you are."

"And what would you know about being a monster?"

"I know plenty... And seeing as you've shared, I've got no reason to hide it any longer..."

Martin let his hands drop to his sides as he turned to face Bruma, squeezing his eyes shut and evidently steeling himself. I wondered now if he had ever told anyone about his past. Probably not, for all the secret shame he seemed to be carrying.

He finally let out a long sigh and opened his eyes. "When I was a young man, I grew impatient with the Mages Guild restrictions, as did many of my fellow apprentices. We threw ourselves into the riddles of daedric magic, hungering for forbidden secrets. Our search for such power led to my possessing Sanguine's Rose for a brief time, though it seems a lifetime ago. Knowledge and power were our gods. You can guess the rest… We got in over our heads. People died. My friends died. All because I was so blinded by power that by the time I realised the gravity of my mistake, I was wading through a sea of blood."

He looked down at his feet, the self-loathing radiating off of him once again and I felt powerless to do anything about it. Not that it stopped me from trying.

"You didn't mean for them to die though," I pointed out. "You never meant for those things to happen."

"Yet they did. They happened because of my foolishness and thirst for power. So you see, Aerrun, you're not the only monster standing here."

"You're not a monster, Martin!" I growled, clenching my fist. "Not like me! Never like me! You didn't see the things I'd done, the people I've killed! You could never possibly understand the hell I've had to live with!"

"But you're not like that anymore!" He shouted back.

"You don't know that! And it doesn't matter anymore, don't you get it?! When this is all over, I'm leaving, Martin! And I'm never coming back!." His eyes widened with shock. "I can't stay! You can be Emperor and then everyone's happy! I'll leave and you'll never have to concern yourself with me ever again, like none of this ever happened-!"

I was cut off as warm, chapped lips crushed against mine, effectively silencing me. I felt my heart stop, my lungs forgot how to breathe and I just stood there, not resisting but not responding either as it dawned on me that Martin was kissing me.

When he pulled away, we stared at each other, breathing heavily. And he was glaring right at me with those blazing blue orbs, holding my face in his hands.

"Don't say that ever again. Just don't."

"Martin-"

"Do you honestly think that's what I want? For you to vanish? You honestly think I want to see you go?" He snapped harshly.

"Well why not?" I retorted, slapping his hands away. "You've heard what I did, what I am. Yet you go and do that…"

My voice broke slightly. I hadn't felt so confused in a long time. I didn't know how to feel about this. Martin showing so much concern for me, kissing me, not wanting me to leave him… I couldn't wrap my head around it. Even after hearing everything I had just said he still wanted me here. He didn't want to see me go. I was worth _something_ to him. And that something was worth fighting for.

He softened, brow furrowing slightly. "I'm sorry… I just… I didn't think…" He ran a hand through his hair in silent frustration. "I shouldn't have done that. I just-"

"Martin… Why…?"

He turned back to me. His face wore a small smile that looked rather pained if anything. "You want to know why I kissed you. Isn't it obvious? I'm in love with you, Aerrun."

I felt my heart swell and I couldn't help but stare at him.

"I won't pretend it wasn't a shock to hear you were with the Dark Brotherhood. I won't pretend I wasn't repelled for even a moment," he confessed and I felt my heart sink horribly. But then he placed a hand to my cheek and he smiled softly. "But then all I have to think about is all the good you've done in the world since we met. You saved me and the other survivors at Kvatch. You retrieved Azura's Star, Tiber Septim's Armour, the Great Welkynd and Sigil Stones and closed the Great Gate, saving Bruma in the process. Are you honestly telling me that a monster would do those things? Do you really think that you're the same person you were a year ago?"

No, I wasn't the same. When I first awoke, I had become the total opposite of myself – now I was caught somewhere in between. Half-caste. Not quite the old me but not quite the me who woke up in that prison cell. I really wasn't the person I had been before.

And he wasn't the person he used to be either.

Martin gently took my hands in his and I realised just how cold mine were as they leached his warmth. I tightened my grip on his without even thinking about it.

"Your past is your business, I won't pry if you don't want me to. But all I know is that the woman in front of me, the stubborn, rash, frustrating woman who makes me constantly worry about her is the one I want to be with, but only if you'll have me."

"You're an idiot," I muttered after a moment, resting my head on his shoulder. "An idiot for picking a fool like me."

He placed his arms around my waist, pulling me closer as my arms went around his neck. I felt warm here. Safe. Loved. I hadn't felt like this in a very long time. His touch was gentle. And when he kissed my cheek, it did not hold the same intensity as the first kiss, but it was soft and warm, sending a tingling feeling through my body that had nothing to do with my injuries.

I brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear, smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time. And Martin smiled back.

White flakes of snow began to fall, settling across the courtyard in a fine white blanket as we made our way back inside, the pain in my leg not bothering me in the slightest.

[O]

Three days passed before it was decided I was in good enough condition to go to Paradise. The pain in my leg had mostly subsided, replaced for a dull ache in my knee, though it didn't hurt too much to bend. I wasn't limping anymore, which was good enough for me.

The Blades were all gathered in the Great Hall. The tension was palpable as Martin finished drawing the last symbol on the floor. Azura's Star and the scrapings of Tiber Septim's blood had been combined to create the substance to draw the symbols for the ritual, the Great Welkynd and Great Sigil Stones hovering in the air above them, letting out a quiet humming sound.

I barely dared to breathe, checking my armour and weapons carefully to ensure I was fully prepared. Small vials of potions were tucked into the pouches on my belt, as I didn't want to be weighed down by a pack. Not when I was going to the most dangerous place possible.

Finally, Martin stepped back from the runes, facing me slowly with a sombre look on his face.

"Are you ready?" I nodded. "I won't be able to keep the portal open for long. So once you're in, you'll have to find another way out."

"Lovely, should be simple," I commented, clapping my hands together.

"Let's hope. I believe Mankar Camoran acts as an anchor of Paradise, like the Sigil Stones act as an anchor to the Oblivion Gates. Kill Camoran, destroy Paradise and you should be sent back here," he explained. I could tell he didn't know this for sure – the chances were high that this was a one way trip. But if we wanted the Amulet of Kings back, what else could we do? It was the only hope we had left.

"Right. Well, let's get on with it. No sense in stalling."

He tried to smile, but it looked horribly pained and I knew he was worrying again. I offered my old defiant grin. It had become something of a trade mark when I was doing anything that could be considered suicidal.

"Just be careful in there. Make sure you come back. Alive, preferably."

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" I noted with a laugh and he managed a small chuckle, kissing me gently before stepping back and opening the Mysterium Xarxes.

After a few moments, there was a screeching roar and a blast of fire erupted from the ground accompanied by the spiked thorns that formed the Oblivion Gates. The Great Stones flew upwards, colliding and exploding in a flash of red and green light, causing the portal to open like a swirling vortex of fire and light.

I glanced back at Martin and saw beads of sweat roll down his forehead. He couldn't keep it open much longer.

So, bracing myself, I dived in headfirst.

[O]

When I emerged on the other side, I found myself in a beautiful garden. I blinked in surprise, wondering briefly if I was in the right place at all.

All around me, tall trees grew high towards the sky, lush green grass as far as the eye could see, with beautiful, exotic flowers growing everywhere in colours of purple, pink and blue. Elegant marble archways that were decidedly Ayleid in fashion dotted the landscape and as a gentle breeze blew, I could smell honeysuckle flowers.

The sun hovered on the edge of the horizon, dying the sky pink, red and gold, trapped in a permanent sunset, casting shadows across the ground. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the gentle bubbling of a stream and the sounds of waves lapping upon the shore.

I could see why Mankar Camoran named this place Paradise. I had never seen anything quite so beautiful. But appearances, as I had learnt, were deceptive. A man like Mankar Camoran would not create such a beautiful place without some kind of twisted meaning behind it.

And no sooner than I thought about the man, a scream erupted somewhere in the distance and I grabbed my bow, ready to defend myself.

But nothing appeared and the screaming came to a sudden stop. I had the worst feeling that it ended for only one reason.

Before me, flagstones marked a path deeper into the garden and I knew that if I wanted to find Mankar Camoran, I had to follow it. No sooner than I took one step, a voice echoed in my head.

_So, the cats-paw of the Septim arrives at last._

I froze, recognising the voice instantly. I had heard it only once before and that was in the Shrine to Mehrunes Dagon, yet it was so distinctive there was no mistake.

Mankar Camoran.

_You didn't think you could take me unawares, here of all places. In the Paradise that I created. Gaiar Alata in the old tongue. A vision of the past and the future._

I shook myself, just imagining the best way to kill Camoran when I got my hands on him. Perhaps the Blade of Woe. It would be a great irony, after all the suffering he had caused with this plan of his. Or my Akiviri sword, as a form of revenge from the Blades.

I continued deeper into the bowels of the garden and kept my wits about me as another scream echoed through the air. But after at least ten minutes, I had still seen no trace of a daedra, let alone another person. Supposedly this was the place that the agents of the Mythic Dawn came to after they died, immortal like the daedra, and I had killed plenty of them. So where were they all?

More time passed – seconds, minutes, perhaps hours – yet I had still yet to see anything or anyone else. The garden seemed to be completely empty except for me.

Then, out of nowhere, a woman erupted from the bushes.

She was thin, her pale skin stretched tightly over her bones. She was covered in scratches that were bleeding rather badly, the thin rags she wore stained crimson. Her eyes were wide in terror and her mousy hair was a mess, some patches missing in places. Her large pale eyes stared at me in surprise and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Are you here to end this nightmare and free us from the Savage Garden?" She gasped, stumbling forwards and grasping my arms in a surprisingly tight grip.

I tried to compose myself quickly, but the woman looked wild and it was difficult not to be a little disturbed. "Who are you?"

"I was a member of the Mythic Dawn," she said hurriedly. "Everyone here died in the Master's service. Like the Master promised, we are now immortal like the daedra. But our life here is a nightmare. The creatures of the garden torment us endlessly. When they kill us, we are reborn and the cycle begins all over again. No one has yet found a way to leave the garden, except for those who are given the Bands of the Chosen and allowed to enter the Forbidden Grotto. Those who enter never return."

I grimaced, not liking the sound of my chances. But I had a job to do and so I'd just have to find my way through as I always did.

"Where can I find Mankar Camoran?"

The woman led me a little further down the path and pointed to a high mountain that loomed over the garden. I had not noticed it before and I wasn't sure why.

"At the top of that mountain is the Terrace of Dawn. It leads to the Master's palace, Carac Agaialor. Beneath the mountain lies the Forbidden Grotto, the only way out of the Savage Garden. Please, save us," she pleaded.

"I'll do my best. And thank you."

She nodded, trembling slightly. But then I heard a roar and I barely looked up in time to see a Clannfear charging full speed towards us. The woman let out a shriek of terror and she tore away.

The monster ran past me, heading right for the fleeing woman. I shot an arrow at the beast, but it disappeared around the bend. I felt horribly guilty for not pursuing them, but I had to find Mankar Camoran and there was no saying what would happen if I left the path.

The sooner I found him, the sooner the poor souls in the garden would be freed of their suffering. So I carried on, trying to ignore the screaming that filled my ears.

As I went I could see other members of the Mythic Dawn, some fleeing daedra and others simply trying to hide from sight. As I went, Camoran spoke to me again.

_Behold the Savage Garden, where my disciples are tempered for a higher destiny; to rule over Tamriel reborn. If you truly are the hero of destiny, as I hope you are, then the garden will not hold you for long. Lift your eyes to Carac Agaialor, my seat at the pinnacle of Paradise. I will await you there._

"Good. Saves me the trouble of looking for you," I hissed, though he didn't reply and I had no way of knowing if he had even heard me.

The mountain grew closer, growing larger and larger as I approached. Along the way I ran into a couple of daedra though they were easily dispatched or they ignored me in favour of the garden's prisoners.

As I rounded a corner, I came face to face with a dremora.

I drew my sword immediately, glaring at the monster. But he didn't strike or draw his own weapon, which was unusual within itself. He just fixed me with those blood red eyes.

"You destroyed the Sigil Tower at Ganonah. My kin say you fought well," he said. I had never heard a dremora speak. It was a guttural, growling sound which made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"I've got nothing to say to you," I said. Just behind the dremora, I could see a large, black door with glowing red runes. That had to be the entrance to the Forbidden Grotto then.

"Talk or not as you choose. But you will listen."

"What do you want?"

"There is one way out of the garden. I guard that path. You will travel that path and it will bring me honour to defeat you. But you shamed my kin at Ganonah. To bring you into my service, that would also bring me honour. So I offer you a choice: will you confront me in battle, or offer me a service?"

"What do you think?" I spat, readying my sword, glaring at the monster.

The dremora drew his own, looking half impressed. "Your mind follows the simple path, the path of an animal. But you have courage at least. You will fail, mortal, and then where will you be? Dead. And nothing."

I lunged faster than he could, knocking the blade from his hands and stabbing him through the neck. There was a spray of blood and he let out an awful gasping noise. One clawed hand tried to seize my throat, but I threw him back to the ground. He writhed for a few moments before falling still.

Placing my sword back into its scabbard, I approached the door at the end of the path and attempted to push it open. It refused to budge and no matter how hard I tried, it refused to move at all.

Finally I gave up, panting a sweating slightly from the effort.

Of course, that woman had said only those with the Bands of the Chosen could enter the Forbidden Grotto. I was hoping that, not being sent to the garden by conventional means, would allow me to pass without them. Unfortunately Mankar Camoran had other ideas.

I looked around before returning to the dead daedra. On his belt were a pair of black cuffs that bore the same markings of the black door. I picked them up and, hesitantly, I pulled them onto my wrists. I didn't like the red glow they gave off.

When I pushed on the door again, it opened with ease and allowed me entrance.

[O]

I found myself in a dark cavern, lit by flickering torches and a soft red glow. The air was stuffy and hot and my undershirt stuck to my skin with sweat. I had tried to pull the bands from my wrists, but they stuck fast which concerned me. But for now, I decided to concern myself with finding my way out for now.

_How little you understand! You cannot stop Lord Dagon. The principalities have sparkled as gems since the First Morning. Many are their names and the names of their Masters: the Coldharbour of Meridia, Peryite's Quagmire, the ten Moonshadows of Mephala and Dawn's Beauty, the princedom of Lorkhan… Misnamed Tamriel by deluded mortals._

"You saying that has just confirmed you are full of shit," I growled to the air. "Coldharbour is Molag Bal's domain, Meridia's is the Coloured Rooms. The Quagmire is Vaermina's realm and the ten Moonshadows is Azura's. If you can't get that much right then I know you're a phony!"

_Yes you understand now. _Camoran pressed on and I was still unsure if he was ignoring me or genuinely hadn't heard me at all._ Tamriel is just one more daedric realm of Oblivion, long since lost to its prince when he was betrayed by those who served him. Lord Dagon cannot invade Tamriel, his birth right! He has come to liberate the occupied lands! Ask yourself, how is it that mighty gods die, yet the daedra stand incorruptible? How is it the daedra forthright proclaim themselves to mortals, whilst the gods cower behind statues and the faithless words of traitor-priests? It is simple… They are not gods at all. The truth has been before you since you were born; the daedra are the true gods of the universe. Julianos, Dibella and Stendarr are Lorkhan's betrayers, posing as divinity in a principality that has lost its guiding light. What are scholarship, love and mercy compared to fate, night and destruction? The gods you worship are trifling shadows of the First Causes._

"Does it matter? There's only one being I worship – Sithis. The Dread Father is beyond the gods and your petty daedra," I hissed. "Don't think your words will affect me, because I don't give a fuck."

But he continued on his ravings, maintaining the cool tone that masked the mad words of a deluded man. I tuned him out.

_Sithis is beyond the daedra and the divines. Sithis encompasses everything – he is the Void. The silence of space. The darkness of mightnight. Shapeless, ever changing and ever thirsting for souls and blood in his name.  
><em>

I kept repeating this over and over again in my head, along with the Five Tenets, determined to block out Mankar Camoran with some success.

I came to the edge of a huge chamber and the heat hit me, full blast. I noticed several large cages were hung over crevices in the floor, the source of the heat and light in the room. As I edged closer to get a better look, I saw a river of lava below. And in the cages were several men and women in rags, all wearing the Bands of the Chosen.

Suddenly, one cage descended into the lava and there was a horrible scream as the occupant was submerged up to the neck in the fiery liquid. I had to fight not to throw up at the sight. I backed away as quickly and quietly as possible.

But not quietly enough, as a nearby cultist had spotted me.

He moved towards me swiftly and I seized my sword, ready to strike. But to my surprise he didn't draw a weapon or conjure armour to protect himself. He held his hands up in surrender. I hesitated. Why did nothing here seem willing to fight me? Was it Camoran's doing? Did he want to see me make it to his palace, to crush me personally?

"You wear the Bands of the Chosen, but you are no prisoner… Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm the one who's going to kill Mankar Camoran. So get out of my way."

"Can you really do it?" He asked curiously, a spark of life appearing in his eyes. "Can you bring this eternal nightmare to an end? Can you defeat Mankar Camoran and free the souls of all the poor fools who followed him? Listen, I can help you. You need me if you wish to leave the Forbidden Grotto."

I narrowed my eyes, watching him suspiciously. "And why would you help me? I've killed quite a lot of your friends, you know."

"I was at the sacking of Kvatch. They had no chance. We took them by surprise and carried over the walls in the first assault. But they fought on anyway. Desperately. They seemed to think this decadent, mundane world was worth defending. I was slain after the battle was over. Three townsfolk hiding in a cellar attacked me when I entered the house, looking for survivors. They tore me to pieces, although I have no doubt they were immediately killed by my companions."

I saw red and threw the cultist into the wall, holding my sword to his throat. I was trembling with pure anger. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now!" I roared, spitting in his face.

"Because it is a waste of your time. And I have had plenty of time to ponder my deeds since I came here," he choked as my grip on his throat tightened. "Ponder, and regret. An eternity of regret. For my weakness, the Master sent me here to torture my former comrades who showed similar ingratitude to his gift of eternal life." I glared but released him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

"How can you help me?" I growled.

"No one wearing the Bands of the Chosen can leave this grotto. The doors will not open and there is no other way out," he explained quickly, eyes flickering rapidly over my shoulder and I had to look around to ensure no one was sneaking up behind me. We were still alone, aside from the tortured moans and screams of the captives in the cages. "I can remove them, but I need time. The dremora overseer will be here soon to check up on me. You will need to play along until he leaves."

"Or I could stab him and be done with it," I suggested, frowning slightly. I didn't trust him. I couldn't trust him. No matter what, he was still a member of the Mythic Dawn and no amount of regret he felt could make me trust him. I knew he was my only hope of escaping the grotto, but that didn't mean believing every word he said.

Predictably he shook his head at the suggestion. "No, it would simply alert the other dremora to your presence and we'd both be killed. I would return and then be punished for my treachery. You would die and that would be that. You must play along for now, if only to fulfil your desire to kill the Master."

I growled but sheathed my sword and gave him a curt nod. I didn't like it, but I wanted Camoran's head. If that meant playing along for now, I'd do it.

I followed the cultist towards an empty cage. It was identical to the one that had trapped Menien in the Sigil Tower at Kvatch and I swore it looked as though it were made of the bones of some colossal beast. I frowned and turned to ask if there really was no other option. But I was cut off by the sound of heavy footfalls and the clanking of armour and a dremora entered the chamber. Immediately his golden, slit-like eyes snapped onto me.

"What's going on here? Who is this?" He snarled in the same guttural voice as the dremora guarding the entrance.

"A prisoner sent by-"

"Show me some respect, worm! Unless you want to end up in the cages with them," he hissed threateningly, baring dark, pointed teeth.

"Yes kynreeve, sir. This prisoner was sent in by Kathutet for questioning. I was about to begin."

The dremora looked from the cultist to me and his eyes narrowed dangerously. I tried my best not to give anything away, out of fear of what the dremora might do if he detected the lie.

"This is not one of Mankar Camoran's chattels from the garden. Who is she?"

"Nothing escapes your vigilance, kynereeve. Kathutet wondered as well. This is why he sent her for questioning."

I couldn't deny, the cultist was a very skilled liar – even I might have believed it with how calm and confident he sounded. It made it even harder to trust him. Trusting such a convincing liar was like asking for a knife in the back.

"Fine. Carry on." I expected the dremora to leave, but he remained firmly where he was, bright yellow eyes watching me carefully.

"Of course kynereeve," the cultist said, bowing his head respectfully before turning back to me. "Prisoner, get in the cage!"

I hesitated. It was too easy for him to betray me now. This could very well be a ploy to kill me before I could even reach Mankar Camoran. If I killed them both now, I could save my own skin. I was confident I could do it. But then I didn't know any other way of removing the Bands of the Chosen. And that meant being trapped in these caverns forever. And that meant failing to retrieve the Amulet all over again.

I swallowed. That was my whole purpose here. Not to kill Camoran. His death was a means to an end, that was all. I had to remember my primary objective here, as it had been at the Shrine. Even then, my thoughts were clouded with the thought of killing Camoran and I had failed to achieve either objective. No, the Amulet had to take priority here. Killing Camoran had to just be the bonus. A nice fat bonus after a hard worked contract.

Finally, slowly, I turned and entered the cage. The door slammed shut behind me and I waited to see what would happen next.

The dremora didn't budge and he kept watching as the cultist walked over to the lever that operated the cage. He pulled down and the cage began to plummet, right towards the lava below!

**To Be Continued…**


	13. The Terrace of Dawn

I let out a scream as my feet fell out from under me as the cage fell and I fell flat on my back. Then it all stopped and the cage came to a sudden halt, swinging slightly over the lava.

I bolted upright, breathing heavily. The lava was inches below me and the heat was scorching right through me, but I was safe. I let out a dry sob – I really thought I was done for just then. The cage slowly cranked back up and I pulled myself together as it came back out of the crevice. The cage door behind me fell open to the other side and I peered out at the cultist. The dremora was gone and the cultist looked very relieved.

"There's no way for me to cross," he called from the other side. "But the Master's immortality does have its uses. I will distract the dremora for as long as I can!"

"Right. And, uh… Thanks." I turned and ran down a small tunnel leading off from the chamber, moving as quickly as possible.

I had to find the door that would lead out from the caverns – if the cultist had enough sense he'd head that way. I could rely on him it seemed; he had managed to get me out of a tight spot. But I was still wary. Mankar Camoran wanted to play games with me after all – this could well be just another part of the game.

When I found the door, I ducked behind a boulder, just in case any daedra came my way. After a few minutes, the cultist arrived. A little worn and more tattered than when I had last seen him, but very much alive.

"You made it. Of course, I did not doubt you could handle yourself. Here, allow me to remove the Bands…" He took my wrists and unfastened the clasps, his hands glowing red. They fell off with ease and I rubbed my wrists self-consciously. "There, you are a prisoner of the Forbidden Grotto no longer. Let me go with you. I can help you kill Mankar Camoran. I am not without power."

I frowned.

He had trusted Mankar Camoran's words. Carried out his deeds and lost his life for it, believing he'd be elevated to Paradise, only to enter this nightmare realm. In truth, he had as much cause as me to go after Camoran. To exact revenge and get some sort of justice for himself.

But I didn't trust him, not fully. I couldn't. He might have saved my from the dremora overseer and helped remove the Bands of the Chosen, but I was unsure just how much influence Camoran had over these people – was he just manipulating the cultist into helping me, just so he could turn around and see me die for putting my trust in someone?

There were too many what ifs and possibilities of betrayal. I couldn't risk it.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I just..."

"You still don't trust me. Very well, I shall not interfere. If Akatosh still hears my prayers, go with his blessing," he said, bowing his head.

I returned the gesture and proceeded through the door.

After a few minutes of walking, Mankar Camoran spoke to me once again.

_Well done champion! Your progress is swift and pure. Perhaps you will reach me after all._

His voice was applauding, as though he were praising me, but I could hear the snide undertone and the sneer in his voice. I pushed on, ignoring him to the best of my ability.

_You think I mock you? Not at all. _It was like he could read my mind and I didn't like it._ In your coming, I hear the footsteps of Fate. You are the last defender of decadent Tamriel. I am the midwife of the Mythic Dawn, Tamriel Reborn. I welcome you, if you truly are an agent of Fate. I tire of the self-styled heroes who place themselves in my path, only to prove unworthy in the event._

I could see the exit up ahead, bright sunlight blinding me from the darkness of the Forbidden Grotto. I squinted, shielding my eyes from the light until I was in the open and my eyes adjusted.

Just like the Savage Garden, this place was brimming with purple flowers and decorated with Ayleid architecture. I could hear the screams from the garden below, the roars of the monsters too, the tops of the trees rustling lightly in the breeze and the ocean just peering over the horizon like an endless blue canvas.

Before me, dominating the landscape was a palace of pure white marble. The marble arches were twisted and criss-crossed in a fashion that was meant to be elegant, but I could only imagine thorned-vines. It certainly suited the aesthetic of Paradise, and Mankar Camoran's deluded vision of himself. A palace fit for a king... Yes it suited him perfectly.

Screwing up every nerve and drop of courage I had, I proceeded up the path towards Carac Agaialor, the Terrace of Dawn.

Just as I reached a flight of stairs leading up to a plateau before the palace, I was halted by two figures. A pair of altmer in blood red robes stood before me, a man and a woman. And I recognised them both.

The man, I had stabbed right through the chest in a desperate bid to gain the fourth volume of the Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes. The woman had taken an arrow through her heart for Mankar Camoran at the Shrine to Mehrunes Dagon.

Up close, neither of them was especially good looking. They had the same hard face and prejudiced look in their eyes, the smug expression telling me all I needed to know about how much higher they viewed themselves above the world. They were definitely related.

"You did not expect to see me again, did you?" The Sponsor sneered, golden eyes narrowed as he glared daggers at me. "Not since our little run in back in the Imperial City."

"No actually," I replied coldly. "I thought you were bedridden with a case of bad heart burn." I felt a little flare of satisfaction as his glare intensified. If looks could kill...

"You have no grasp of the power our father wields, pathetic mortal," the woman spat, her glare equally intense. "You think you can stop us?"

"Oh no, I just thought I'd pop in and see how things are going. Catch up with your old dad. I imagine he's had his hands full with new arrivals lately?"

"Oh most certainly," the woman replied, her glare not wavering. "You've been so kind to direct them our way. But enough of this – we both know that you did not come here for idle chit chat. Come. Our father awaits."

She and her brother turned away and began to lead the way into the palace. I was secretly stunned at the revelation that Mankar Camoran was a father and wondered how on earth an insane mad man could ever father children. Magical manipulation? Or some poor fanatic who would do anything for her master?

But either way, it seemed he got the results he wanted in raising them. They seemed just as self righteous as their father.

Yet I followed them nonetheless.

[O]

The corridors of the palace criss-crossed and seemed to go on forever. I wondered now if this was a trap and if I was being led to my doom. But then again, if that were the case then Camoran wouldn't have sent them to meet me outside. He'd have left me to wander the hall ways until I dropped. And in their eyes, meeting Mankar Camoran himself was my doom. So I stayed quiet and followed the pair deeper and deeper in Carac Agaialor.

Finally, we came to the throne room. To my surprise, it was quite bare. No tapestries of the Mythic Dawn, no portraits, ornaments or anything. Just bare stone walls and floor, sunlight flooding in from the high windows. And seated on the throne mounted on a dais at the end of the room, was Mankar Camoran.

Like his children, he was no great looker. In fact, he had the shrunken look of someone who had aged a great amount in a very short amount of time. His black hair was greying and receding. His skin, though it looked like it had once been the colour of bright molten gold, was now lacklustre, dull and sagging somewhat. His eyes, bright gold, were rimmed with dark circles, though an intelligent gleam remained in those unfathomable pools.

Did remaining in Paradise for so long take its toll on him? Or something else?

Then I spotted it, gleaming around his neck. The Amulet of Kings sparkled red, but it was not the true glowing ruby it had been when worn by Emperor Uriel. I glared, hating the mer more than ever.

His children left my sides and joined their father, standing either side of his throne.

"I have long awaited you, Champion of Old Tamriel," Camoran said in his usual grand tone, eying me like something rather nasty and ugly that probably didn't understand, like a slug. "You are the last gasp of a dying age. You breathe the stale air of false hope. How little you understand. You cannot stop Lord Dagon. The walls between our worlds are crumbling. The Mythic Dawn grows nearer with every rift in the firmament. Soon, very soon, the lines now blurred will be erased. Tamriel and Oblivion, rejoined-!"

"Shut up already!" I yelled, stomping up to the foot of the dais. My whole boy shook with rage, hatred mounting. But I kept my eyes on the Amulet. The Amulet was the key to this whole thing. Mankar was just the bonus. "You get your hands on one magic book and you think it makes you some kind of god? Like hell I'll let you destroy everything we've fought for!"

"Ha, the worm truly thinks she could stop Lord Dagon!" The woman laughed, high and cruel.

"Quiet Ruma," the Sponsor hissed, though he was smirking too, eyes laughing just the same at my outburst. "Let the maggot speak. She walks in here, acting like the pompous hero the rest of the filth believes her to be. Let her blow her horn before she dies."

"Yes Raven," Camoran crooned, wearing an amused expression. "Excellent idea. Speak, Champion of Old Tamriel. I have seen many ages pass in my time, but surely you must have some wisdom that has long evaded me. Why, I was not aware a woman who has only seen twenty eight summers could know things I could not. I, Mankar Camoran, who predates even Tiber Septim himself!"

"Right, the man who believes Molag Bal's Coldharbour to be the realm of Meridia. Or Azura's Moonshadows to be Mephala's plane. Or perhaps Vaermina's Quagmire to be the Pits of Peryite," I spat, grinning savagely. "Face it Camoran, you're nothing more than the self-styled hero you claim to despise so much. The hero of Mehrunes Dagon - what did he promise you? Power? Wealth? Knowledge? Let's face it Camoran, you're no equal to the Prince of Destruction. You're just his pawn, a piece on the board, a means to an end. You're nothing to him!"

"How dare you!" Ruma shrieked, pulled out a dagger that gleamed black like the Void itself. "How dare you question my father's status! His power! His worthiness-!"

"Ruma," Camoran snapped. The amused look on his face was gone and an ugly expression replaced it. His entire demeanour changed and I knew I hadn't touched a nerve. I had slammed a hammer down on all of them. "I can see you truly are just another petty hero who interferes in what she cannot understand. A pompous windbag who believes she knows better than everyone, in spite of her own inferiority. I've humoured you long enough and now I've run out of patience."

He rose from his seat, conjuring a staff into his hand. "My long duel with the Septims is now over, and I have the mastery. Emperor Uriel Septim the Seventh is now dead. The Amulet of Kings is mine. And the defender of the last ragged Septim stands before me, in the heart of my power. Let us see who at last proves the stronger."

He shot a bolt of lightning in my direction, but I lunged first. I had to ignore Ruma and Raven - I had killed both of them once already. If Camoran died, they would go with him.

Then a fireball made contact with my chest and I was thrown backwards, the pain exploding and stars appearing in my eyes. I screamed in agony, creating a handful of snow to quench the flames before they could destroy my armour entirely.

I heard all three of the Camoran's laughing and I looked up, red faced with anger and humiliation. Raven smirked evilly before blowing the smoke from his hand.

"I suspected as much," Camoran sneered. "Just a little girl trying to play the hero. I recommend returning to Windhelm... Or what's left of it."

I lunged again, determined that if I was going to die, I'd take all three of them with me. I stabbed my sword through Ruma. She screamed horribly as I threw her to the ground, leaving the sword in her stomach. Raven let out a battle cry but I punched him in the nose, hard. There was a crunch and blood streamed down his face as he toppled down the dais, tripping on the hem of his robes and landing flat on his back on the ground.

I turned to Mankar Camoran, who lifted his staff to perform a deadly curse. I dodged, rolling across the floor, straightening up right in front of him before slashing his throat open with the Blade of Woe.

Blood cascaded from the wound like a crimson waterfall. I took the Amulet of Kings and ripped it from his neck - it came away easily and the glow of fading magic told me all I needed to know.

He gargled, coughing up blood as he fell to his knees, trying desperately to reach his staff to heal himself with one hand whilst the other clutched at his weeping neck. I picked it up off of the floor, holding it high above his head.

"You want this?" He nodded feebly, like a small child, pushing himself up with his free hand. "Say please."

He opened his mouth, let out a pathetic, choked noise. I smiled cruelly, malice ruling me in that brief moment. "Oh sorry, that wasn't the right answer."

I raised the staff over my head, bringing it down on my knee where it snapped like a twig. Mankar Camoran stared in horror and the final spark of his life faded away. His arm gave way and he fell to the floor dead.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The whole room began to shake and the walls began to crumble. Raven, who had climbed onto the dais to witness his father's final moments, fell to the ground, lifeless. Ruma stopped twitching suddenly. Paradise was collapsing and the bound souls were free.

I looked around and spotted my sword in Ruma's gut. Clutching the Amulet of Kings in one hand and shoving the Blade of Woe into my boot, I ran for it, seizing the handle and ripping the blade free. It snapped, clean in two as I did so. I stared at the broken blade, as though in utter disbelief, strange loss filling me. Then the current crisis came to mind and I managed to dodge out of the way of falling debris, left and right. I ran for the corridors, praying to escape when the world plunged into darkness.

[O]

I was on the ground, cheering voices around me at an ever greater volume than the Battle of Bruma, if such a thing were possible.

"Blades, do homage to Martin's Champion!" I blinked, confused. That was definitely Steffan. I sat up, blinking rapidly and bringing the world into focus. I was back in Cloud Ruler Temple and the Blades were kneeling in a circle around me. I was back.

Martin hurried forward, eyes bright with worry and relief as he knelt before me, running his hands through my hair and down my face.

"You found a way back. Does that mean...?"

I blinked again and looked down at my hand. The red gem, a slight glow throbbing in its heart, was clutched in my fingers. I had done it. I succeeded.

"I killed Mankar Camoran," I said in a hushed voice. "Martin... I got it."

"The Amulet of Kings..." He whispered, looking at the large gem, eyes wide. I made to stand, but a familiar and unwelcome pain shot down my left leg and I nearly crumpled. I swore loudly and Martin caught me, helping me to my feet. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I guess my leg will need to rest again... Looks like the damage might be a little more permanent than I realised..." I didn't like the thought. To think my leg might not have recovered at all... I didn't like to think about the consequences.

"It's almost over love," Martin said softly. "Then you'll have all the rest you could ever want."

"I'd like that, after running all over Cyrodiil for you," I laughed, smiling as a weight lifted itself from my shoulders. It had all been worth it in the end, after all.

"Gods I missed your laugh. You actually sound like the mad woman I met in Kvatch," Martin chuckled, beaming. He leant in, kissing me full on the lips and I responded enthusiastically. I felt new again, knowing I had finally righted my past failure and killed the hatred within me.

Mankar Camoran was dead and his poisonous rot that festered in my soul was dead too. I finally felt free. Free to move forward. Free to look to the future with hope. And free to enjoy this moment with Martin for as long as time allowed.

He pulled away gently, still beaming radiantly and I couldn't help but smile back. Finally, things were looking in the right direction.

I held out the Amulet of Kings. "It belongs to you."

His smile wavered slightly as he looked from me to the Amulet. "Belongs to me? The Amulet of Kings?... So you and Jauffre have said. If it is true, if the Emperor really was my father, then I should be able to wear it. Only those of the true Septim bloodline can wear the Amulet of Kings."

Yet he did not take it, he just stared at it as though it would bite him if he laid a finger on it. I sighed, rolling my eyes and reached forward, fastening the clasp around his neck. I ran my hands down the fine gold chain and gently straightened the Amulet against Martin's chest where it glowed bright red, like it had when Emperor Uriel wore it.

"You see? It's yours Martin," I said, unable to remove the smile from my face. "You are Uriel Septim's son."

He beamed, full force and glowed radiantly like the sun itself had emerged in his face and I felt my heart swell like a ballon at the sight that I felt my own smile widen.

"I didn't need the Amulet to tell me that," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. "I've known it was true since you first told me in Kvatch. But..." He turned somewhat serious again. "It's one thing to become an Emperor and quite another to be one."

"As you've said several times over the past year, love," I noted, rolling my eyes.

"Haha, indeed. Nice to see you do listen from time to time. But for now, we must proceed to the Imperial City. Until the Dragonfires are lit, Mehrunes Dagon's invasion will continue, even if Mankar Camoran is dead. I've sent a message to Chancellor Ocato and he is awaiting us."

"Well let's not keep him waiting, shall we?" I said, grinning as I turned to face the rest of the Blades. I could see their pride, their delight and their relief that the worst had passed. And I knew the exact feeling. Yes the Gates continued to open and Mehrunes wouldn't let Camoran's death stop him now, but we had the Amulet, the heir and now all that was left was to light the Dragonfires.

The darkness had been long, nearly unending. But finally, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and I felt myself yearning to reach for it. To step out into the light and out of this long nightmare.

But if I had known what was waiting on the other side, I would have ran. I would have ran as fast as I could and never looked back.

**To Be Continued...**

**AN: Sorry this chapter is kinda short :I But it felt like an appropriate place to leave things. I only have a couple of chapters left to write now and wow, I am surprised. **

**I'm actually going to finish something - usually I lose interest in a fic after a few chapters, but I've really enjoyed writing this and it keeps me constantly wondering about what to do differently here and there and it's developed and changed so much, I am actually proud of myself :) **

**It is a nice feeling to have after having a long period of feeling so shit about everything I do. So please review and fav if you like. I will have the final chapters up as soon as I can ^_^ Thank you for your support and I hope you've enjoyed it so far.**


	14. Akatosh's Dawn

The Imperial City was the heart of Cyrodiil and the heart of the Empire. So it was only appropriate that it was a sight to behold. The White Gold Tower seemed to glow in the rays of the rising sun. The city below, surrounded by high marble walls looked like a child's play set compared to the tower at its centre. All in all, it was a magnificent sight to behold.

The entourage had stopped to rest at the top of a large hill overlooking the city, though we were still about a day away from reaching the gates. Steffan had wanted to press on, but the men and horses were exhausted from a week of near constant travel and so he relented, allowing us a few hours of rest. I stood a little way away from the rest of the group, viewing the city before me and thinking.

Ever since the death of Mankar Camoran, Oblivion Gates had been springing up all over Cyrodiil. Whilst it had clearly not stopped Dagon and the Mythic Dawn, Camoran's death had thrown the Prince of Destruction's schemes into disarray and left the Mythic Dawn floundering desperately for survival. Otherwise, the Gates would have focused more tightly on Martin when we departed Cloud Ruler Temple.

We had left swiftly – my armour was still damaged and I was without my sword, but I was hopeful that it would not be an issue. If worst came to worst, I still had the Blade of Woe and my bow, but I felt strangely naked and vulnerable without my sword. There had been no time to repair it, the blade having been lost when Paradise collapsed and there were no other available weapons in Cloud Ruler at the time. It was like I had lost a part of myself – it was the same weapon that had saved me time and time again in the depths of Oblivion.

I had been reassured that once the crisis was over, it could be repaired with a new blade. It wouldn't be the same, but it was far better than no sword at all. And I had other, more pressing matters on my mind. Now that we were facing the end of the Oblivion Crisis, I had to seriously consider what came next.

In reality, I had barely given thought to the matter – it felt like the Oblivion Crisis would go on forever, the end would never come and the darkness would never end. I was so caught up in the present, I hadn't given serious consideration to the future. And now I had to decide.

The Dark Brotherhood was waiting for me and I had promised to go back. But I was sick and tired of death. Sick of killing and running all over the province. And returning to the Brotherhood was just that – more death, more killing, more running all over the place. Did I really want to return to that life?

Obviously not, but I felt guilty of leaving those faces, the faces of my family, waiting for me to return. I didn't want to break that promise. They were my family, I loved them and they loved me. Schemer, who clung so desperately to me when I left. Gogron, who would have hugged me if Ocheeva let him. Salhei, who had left on his contract, expecting to see me when he got back. How many times had I let that argonian down now?

It was my fault he was there in the first place. I dragged him down that path and now it was all he knew. It would be selfish just to run off and leave him alone.

But I thought of my life now, Martin, Baurus, Jena and all the others… They were family too. I loved them as much as I loved the Brotherhood, in Martin's case maybe even more. I didn't want to leave them either. I had shared my darkest secrets with Martin and he shared his with me, we shared each other and embraced each other's flaws. I felt safe, warm, even happy with Martin in a way that I hadn't felt in a very long time.

I had made my promises and now I was desperately looking for a solution to keep both. I could keep in touch with the Brotherhood at the very least. No more running contracts, but maintaining my connections… Surely that was better than nothing?

"Aerrun!" I looked up to see Martin waving me over towards the party, who were all mounted and ready to leave. "We're moving on."

"Right, coming," I called back before turning to take one last look at the city, allowing the sight to be ingrained into my memory. The view was simply beautiful and part of me was hopeful to see it again soon.

I limped back over to the group as quickly as my injuries would allow and climbed up onto the horse behind Martin. He gave me a quick smile before moving the horse to fall in behind Steffan, Baurus drawing up beside us and the rest of the entourage bringing up the rear.

"Well Aer, this is it," Baurus remarked as we made our way down the slope. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Definitely," I replied, perhaps a little too brightly. "It's just nice to finally see the end, isn't it?"

He laughed, nodding before he turned to Martin. "And just think, in a few hours you'll be Emperor. Got an Empress in mind yet?"

Martin flushed slightly at the teasing and I felt my own cheeks burn as Baurus threw me a cheeky wink. I could reach across the space and strangle him for the mischievous look in his eyes at that moment.

"I'm not Emperor yet, Baurus. And there's plenty of time to think about such things in the future," Martin replied coolly.

"Whatever. Well, when you do get around to it, I expect to be your best man, okay?" He looked thoughtful for a moment before adding: "And the godfather."

"Baurus, if you don't shut up right now-!" I growled threateningly, readying a fist.

"Children, calm down," Jena called from further back, the familiar sense of doom accompanying her falsely calm tone. Immediately, I drew away and Baurus shut his mouth – we both knew better than to make Jena angry.

[O]

We arrived at the steps leading into the Imperial Palace where we were met by a dunmer woman in Blades armour – she must have been the messenger that Martin sent ahead.

"My lord, Chancellor Ocato awaits," she said, bowing lowly. Martin thanked her and followed Steffan inside, holding my hand tightly in his as we filed inside.

I had only been here once before and that was when I was recruiting aid for Bruma a few weeks ago. We stood in a broad, dimly lit corridor that formed a perfect circle. Just beyond was the Council's chamber and I could spy the Chancellor pacing the room back and forth.

Ocato was an altmer with the typical golden skin of his kind and charcoal black hair that looked as though it might be falling out. His robes were a deep shade of scarlet, golden patterns embroided around the neck, shoulders and cuffs and they flowed around him as he paced.

The Chancellor looked around when we entered the room and his worry melted into relief. Steffan stepped forwards, the dunmer woman at his side.

"Chancellor, we present Martin Septim, true heir of Uriel Septim the Seventh," the acting Grandmaster said, his voice carrying throughout the room. "What say you to his claim?"

Ocato immediately fell to his knees at Martin's feet in a low bow. "Martin Septim, on behalf of the Elder Council, I accept your claim to the throne. The coronation ceremony will be arranged as soon as possible."

But as Ocato got to his feet and began to speak to a noticeably shocked Martin, the dunmer caught my eye. Her scarlet eyes were gleaming suddenly and her ears had suddenly stood on end as she looked back to the door. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck do the same and I felt a sudden sense of dread.

There was a blast, like a cannon let loose, followed by shrieks of terror and I could have screamed there and then.

Every. Single. Time.

A guard burst into the room, eyes wild with fear. "Chancellor Ocato! The city is under attack! Oblivion Gates have opened and the daedra are in the city – we are overwhelmed!"

Everyone paled simultaneously but Ocato took charge. "Courage soldier. We have an Emperor again," he said firmly – I was slightly surprised. Looking at Ocato, I never truly imagined him to be the sort to remain so level headed in such circumstances. But then again, who else had managed to hold the Empire together over the past year? He turned to Martin. "What are your orders, Sire? Should the guard fall back to the palace?"

There was another blast, this one strong enough to make the palace walls tremble and shake dust from the ceiling. Swords were drawn and I felt very pathetic with only a dagger at my disposal.

"No. If we let ourselves get besieged in the palace, we are done for. We must get to the Temple of the One, immediately," Martin commanded, his face set with determination.

"As you command, Sire," Ocato agreed, bowing his head before turning to the other guardsmen in the room. "Guards, form up! Protect the Emperor! To the Temple of the One!"

I planted myself firmly at Martin's side, determined to not let him out of my sight. There was still hope. We just had to reach the Dragonfires before it was too late.

We hurried out into the city to find pure pandemonium awaiting us. Gates had opened within the city, buildings had been set alight and people were running for cover as the daedra ran wild. Steffan and the others were trying to carve a path through the daedra and I would have followed them with Martin, until a hand seized my arm. I looked around to find the same dunmer from earlier, red eyes fixed on me.

"It's no use going that way. Too many daedra, you'd never make it," she said in a low voice. "I know a better way."

I frowned but nodded. She was a Blade and therefore, someone I could trust. So we followed her. It seemed no matter which was we went, the daedra were swarming all over the place and Martin was their target! I drew my bow, firing into the throng and dispersing the monsters whilst Martin and the dunmer blew them back with handfuls of magic.

We came to the wall dividing Green Emperor Way from the Temple District.

"They'll expect us to use the gates, but I doubt they know about this," the dunmer said, pressing on a spot of the wall, causing a small square to sink inwards. "We never knew what it was for. It's just been here for a very long time."

A small section of the wall split open, leaving a passage through to the other side. "Quickly your Highness. You must hurry. I will have Steffan make a distraction at the entrance to the district so you can get through faster."

"Of course. Thank you. Aerrun, let's go, we need to reach the Dragonfires!"

"Right," I said, nodding stiffly before leading the way through the passage. We emerged in the Temple District, not far from the Temple of the One. I looked back to thank the dunmer, but she was gone. I frowned but knew there was no time to waste now.

[O]

The Temple District was not completely overrun with daedra yet, but there were enough to prevent us from safely reaching the Temple of the One. I could see the Temple from here and it seemed unharmed at the moment, which was fortunate. We were so close now and I felt my resolve burn brightly. We just had to make it across the street and around to the door of the temple and we would be safe.

The Blades would storm into the district any second and it would buy us precious time to get inside. It was all in the timing.

"When I say the word, run like you've never ran before," I whispered, gripping the Blade of Woe tightly in one hand and Martin's hand in the other. He didn't reply, he just nodded and readied himself. His hand was sweating, but I barely noticed. Mine was sweating just as badly.

Seconds passed and there was a roar. The daedra began to charge for the gates of the district as the Blades and Imperial Soldiers surged in.

"Now," I hissed and we ran, our feet pounding hard against the stone. My leg erupted with pain but I beat it down, ignoring the agonising throbbing as it built higher and higher. I couldn't let it stop me, not now. We reached the wall of the Temple and we moved as quickly as possible. Then as we rounded the corner, the worst blow of all hit me full on.

Towering over the city was a huge, hideous red creature I had seen once in the form of a stone statue. Four arms, eyes the colour of dried blood, huge jutting tusks and claws the length of a long house.

Mehrunes Dagon's sheer enormity and evil had not been done justice by the Mythic Dawn. And his being here meant one thing.

We were too late.

Martin dragged me back before Dagon could catch sight of us.

"We're too late," he panted, face pale and eyes wide in horror. "Mehrunes Dagon is here. Relighting the Dragonfires will not save us now. The barriers protecting us from Oblivion are gone!"

It was exactly what I had feared and suspected upon seeing the monster for myself, but hearing Martin confirm it made it all the worse.

The earth rumbled and shook with unnatural power and I racked my brains desperately for an answer that I knew I didn't have.

"Couldn't we cast him back into Oblivion somehow?!" I asked even though I had no idea how such a feat could be possible. A lesser daedra, yes. A daedric prince? That was another matter all on its own.

"I don't see how. Mortal weapons can hurt him, but now that he's here in Tamriel, they don't have the power to destroy him…"

Looking around, as though something, anything, could give me an idea. Then I spotted the glittering red gem around Martin's neck. It had maintained the barriers between Nirn and Oblivion for centuries – what would stop it from sending Dagon back?

"What about the Amulet of Kings?" I asked, praying that Martin could think of whatever I could not.

And the look of revelation on his face seemed to tell me what I wanted to hear. His eyes widened and began to calculate rapidly. "Wait. Yes. The Amulet was given to mortals by Akatosh and contains a portion of his divine power. In theory, it could work… But how to use this power. The Amulet was not intended as a weapon…"

He fell into thought and I kept an eye out for daedra. They all seemed preoccupied and I couldn't help but fear for the Blades' lives. How long could they last against Mehrunes Dagon and his minions? How long until we were found?

"I know what we have to do," Martin said suddenly, straightening up and fixing me with a strange look in his eyes. One I couldn't put my finger on but something in me coiled tightly. "I need to reach the Dragonfires in the Temple of the One – it's the only hope we've got left."

"What's the plan?"

"You'll just have to trust me love. I know what I was born to do but I can't do it alone. I need your help."

"Whatever you need. No matter what."

"Thank you. We need to get past Mehrunes Dagon. Lead on."

I did as he asked, remaining close to the Temple wall as we went. Dagon was roaring down at the Blades who had poured into the street and were fighting back the daedra. I could see Baurus and Jena, back to back and slicing apart any daedra that came their way. Steffan was hollering orders at the men, bloody and red faced as he swung his sword. The dunmer woman was at his side, shooting magic left and right in the form of handfuls of fire.

I spied the Temple door not far ahead, but it was extremely close to Dagon. If we were fast enough and quiet enough, we could make it inside without being seen.

So I led Martin forwards, trying my best not to draw any attention. But we reached the door and a scamp appeared, screeching at us. I silenced it with a quick stab, but not quick enough.

Dagon looked down.

Martin dragged me inside but it was too late.

He had seen us.

Martin slammed the door behind me and led me into a far corner of the Temple. I had no time to ask him what his plan was before he kissed me full on the mouth. It was hot, passionate and seemed strangely bitter-sweet. When he finally pulled away, breathless, he grasped my hands in his.

"I cannot remain to rebuild Tamriel. That task falls to others," he said hurriedly, as though there was not enough time to say it all, giving me a strange sense of deja vu. "Just know that I love you Aerrun, forever and always. My only regret is not having more time with you, my love. Farewell. The dragon waits."

He dropped my hands, turned and ran to the centre of the room. Before I could even process what had happened, the Temple dome exploded and Dagon stepped inside, glaring down at Martin.

"Martin, run!" I screamed.

But he didn't. He held his ground, one hand raised over his head with something glowing red in his hand. He cast the Amulet down onto the stone altar where it smashed. White light erupted from the stone, engulfing Martin and temporarily blinding me.

When it faded and I could see again, Martin was gone. A huge dragon took his place. Its scales rippled like sheets of molten gold, glowing brightly in the darkness. Its huge maw opened wide and it breathed a stream of fire at Dagon, causing the demon to roar in pain.

The dragon launched itself into the air, circling above the Temple before diving down at Dagon, another blast of gold fire searing the daedric prince. As the dragon went in for a second aerial attack, Dagon seized it by the neck, stabbing it right in the gut. I cried as though physically hurt at the sight of it.

The dragon tore itself free from Dagon's grasp and bit him in the throat, throttling Dagon and torrents of blood fell to the ground in a huge cascade. One final blast of fire burnt right through the daedra, who disintegrated until there was nothing left.

For a moment, I stared in horrified wonder. Dagon was gone. We had won. But then I looked at the dragon, no, Martin. He wasn't changing back. He was gasping for breath and I could see huge streams of golden blood dribbling down his front. I stepped forwards.

"Martin… Martin, please," I croaked. He had to change back now. Change back. If he changed back, I could heal him and he would be okay.

But the dragon let out a final roar, rearing up, his wings reaching for the sky as he arched backwards. The gold dulled to grey and the life left him. All that was left was a grey stone statue.

My legs gave way. I sank to the ground and tears poured down my face in a torrent. It couldn't be… He couldn't be… There was no way it could end this way. Not after all this. I stared blankly, unable to move or to stop the emotion pouring down my face.

It felt like an age passed before anyone else entered the decimated temple.

"Aerrun." I didn't look up but I knew exactly who it was. "It's over now. It's time to go home."

"Salhei… Why did he do that...?"

Salhei didn't answer. He simply slid an arm around my back and the other behind my knees as he lifted me into his arms and carried me away before anyone else could arrive and interrogate me about what had happened.

We were outside of the Temple District when the heavens opened and rain began to fall, extinguishing the fires that had been lit by the daedra. Salhei ducked into a side alley as people emerged from the tattered buildings to see what had happened.

As he carried me further and further away, I could hear voices calling my name, yelling for me, scared and worried. They didn't know... But they would. I had failed again and it was my gravest failure yet.

Martin Septim was dead.

**To Be Contined…**

**Oh shit I'm actually going to finish this! I have only the epilogue left to write now and then Into Oblivion will be complete! I do have a sequel of sorts in planning, though it might be a while before I get started on it. Thank you to those who have followed, favourite and reviewed – I really appreciate it!**


	15. Epilogue: Mother's Greetings

The tunnels beneath the Imperial City were an endless labyrinth of stone and cobwebs, but nothing had changed since my last visit here. In spite of everything that had happened, I could recall every twist and turn perfectly.

Guards patrolled the tunnels, but I slithered past through the shadows at a slow and careful pace. I couldn't afford to be heard after all - one false move and the whole of the Imperial Legion could be upon me.

I recognised this place. Captain Renault died here - the blood stains were still visible. This was the place of my first encounter with the Mythic Dawn two years ago. How little I knew back then...

My final desination was just up ahead - a few turns later brought me into a very familiar setting. They had even left the door standing wide open for me.

The cell had changed little since my escape - the same old chains hung from the ceiling and bones were still strewn across the floor. A small rickety table and chair stood by the opposite wall and the gate leading into the passage beyond stood unguarded. I approached the door and picked the lock with ease, pushing it open quietly. The passage was deserted, as Vicente had promised.

I approached the cell opposite my old one and was pleased to find a far too familiar dunmer sitting on the floor nearby. He looked up and frowned, obviously confused at the sudden visitor. After all, prisoners didn't get visitors apart from the highly unpleasant guards, which often resulted in beatings, abuse and cold hard mockery.

I tugged my hood down, revealing a rather smug expression. A sense of spite and malice was welling up inside of me at the look of shock on the dunmer's face.

"It's been a long time, Valen. Two years I believe. I thought you were slated for release," I commented, as though remarking on the weather.

"You! Oh look, the gracious Hero of Kvatch is gracing poor old Valen Dreth with her presence," he noted mockingly. "I heard all about that, you know. I could have sworn you died though. Disappeared into thin air, same as that priest-turned-emperor. What was his name again? Marlow, or Gavin or something, wasn't it?"

I had to control myself very carefully so that I didn't lash out. But I kept one finger to the Blade of Woe's handle, ready to finish this the moment I had bored of the dunmer.

"Something like that," I replied coolly, brushing a loose raven strand out of my face. "But I'm not here to catch up, Dreth. I do believe the last time we met, I made you a promise."

"A promise? What... promise...?" His face paled as his eyes fell to the Blade of Woe that was now in my hand. I placed the key into the lock and opened the door with ease, stepping inside.

"I promised the next time we met, I'd show you how well I swung a blade," I hissed, advancing upon the frightened dunmer.

"N-no, please... I didn't _do_ anything!" He whimpered, backing away quickly until he hit the wall. "Guards, help! Assassin!"

"No one can hear you Dreth," I purred, lifting the dagger to his neck, the edge of the blade gently caressing the tender flesh as he whimpered like a frightened animal. And just as I l slid it across, opening the red line across his throat, I let out a soft whisper: "But the Night Mother says hello."

**The End**  
><strong>AN:Thank you to those who have read Into Oblivion and I hope you enjoyed it ^_^ I have officially began a sequel to this piece that follows on from the epilogue called Silence Falls. Please give it a read if you enjoyed this story, and thank you for all your support :)<br>**


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